The Hunger Games Want YOU
by leopardspotz17
Summary: Ever wanted your own chance to be in the Hunger Games? Well this is it. Make your own character to be tested against the strains of battle and survival. More details inside. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor.
1. Entry Process

**Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 50****th**** Hunger Games. And yes, that means it's the Quarter Quell, and no, unfortunately Haymitch does not make an appearance. The terrain is new, and so are all the characters. This is where you come in. If you want to enter into the Hunger Games please post a review with the following:**

**Name:**

**Gender:**

**Age:**

**District:**

**Appearance:**

**Personality:**

**Skills/Talents:**

**Weaknesses:**

**Interview Persona:**

**Costume for the Chariot Ride:**

**Additional Information:**

**All ages and districts please. For this Quarter Quell there will not be double the contestants, as it was in the books, so only 24 will be entered. Also please enter some fun ones as well, such as dumb, conceited, or over confident characters. I'm sorry but if there are too many nice, smart ones not many will make it into the competition and I will have to make up characters on my own. Also be descriptive. I am more likely to pick characters with more depth. Thanks to ****mjeleon for giving me the inspiration. Also, I already have made a character – Female, District 4. However if I see another female in District 4 that I **_**really**_** like I will move my character to a different District. Be warned that if too many are in one District I may have to move your character to a different district. If so, I will PM you and ask if this is alright. Also later on in the story I may need to ask more questions about your character, so pay attention to this story! If you do not answer the question within 3 days of me asking I may have to make up the answer based on their personality. Have fun!**

**Oh yes, and one more thing.**

**Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds **_**ever**_** be in your favor… ;)**

**P.S. Just so you know this is the character I will submit:**

**Name- Zianna Seaforth**

****

Gender - Girl

Age - 14

District - 4

Appearance - Tall girl with shoulder length slightly wavy ashy gray hair. Has dark blue eyes, and depending on her mood can turn almost black, and usually wears a serious or far-off expression. She also has a muscular frame suited to a swimmer, with broad shoulders and strong legs. Hard, sharp nails, and a slightly sharp appearance to the canines of her teeth. Long tapering fingers.

Personality - Stunningly intelligent, although she tends to downplay everything she does. Before the games she would spend a lot of time alone usually writing poetry or just looking out at the sea. She has musical talent yet she has little time to play any. Without ways to express herself through art she isolates herself. The type to bottle things up, anything that angers her could really set her off. Her emotions are like a time-bomb. Often her face is a mask, showing nothing, but the inner turmoil makes her unstable. However, when someone takes the time to talk to her it relieves the dangerously pent up feelings and can keep her balanced. She also has a sarcastic and pessimistic outlook and hates anything girly. Her eyesight isn't as sharp as others due to years of swimming in the salty water with eyes open, but her hearing is super sharp and she is extremely cautious. Also because of childhood bullying she is very hesitant to trust. She believes that trust only leaves room for betrayal. Strong and silent she is one to think about.

Talents/Skills: Knot tying is a specialty with her long careful fingers and her upbringing in District 4. Also she isn't bad with hand to hand combat and extremely talented with swords. However, with a lack of one she is able to make a bow- a long wooden staff that is a very useful weapon if you know how to use it, her signature move with this weapon is to crush the windpipe. Her strong legs enable her to sprint at a moments notice although long distance running is not her specialty. But her pain tolerance and endurance are high and she needs little resting time. She is fairly ok at most of the trial areas in the practice arena before the games begin.

**Weaknesses - Knife throwing, spear throwing, and archery are difficult with her near-sightedness.**

**Interview Persona - Artistic, Poetic, "Deep" Captures imagination of the audience. **

**Costume for the Grand Entrance - Dark blue, skin tight jumpsuit that shimmers when she moves. Closer examination shows a scale pattern on the suit. Small webs can be seen between her fingers. Blue streaks are in her hair and a silvery tiara rests on her head. Although she protested at the tiara the shark-like grin she wears with it cancels it out.**

**Other Information - Strongly suggest pairing her up with someone. Otherwise she'll keep to herself keeping hidden in her surroundings. Her whole life she had perfected into fading into the background. When picked for the games she merely shrugs and no one really knows who she is. Preferably the boy from District 4 should be a Career - huge, monstrous, and totally alienated by Zianna. Or else let their be animosity between them.**

**_ANNOUNCEMENT! Today (1/27/10) was supposed to be the closing of the entries. However since I only mentioned it to some of you I think it would be fair to keep it open one more day. If you haven't submitted your character do it now! Tomorrow evening this will be officially closed I will choose the contestants. I will try to make the decisions quick enough so I can post the first chapter of the story this time next week, but no promises._**

**_CLOSED! This Entry Process is now officially closed. Thank you for entering! Next Tuesday I expect to have chosen the contestants and I will put up their descriptions for you all. Shortly after that the story will begin. Thanks again. _**

**_~~~~~~ Leopardspotz17_**


	2. Characters

**Hello Everyone! I'm so very sorry for the delay! Shame on me. You see I have a small problem with deadlines ;) Anyways here are the chosen contestants. The "***" before a characters name means that I have changed either gender, District number, or age. The personalities or skills you have entered were not altered. If you have a problem with some of the changes, such as the changes in gender, please PM me and I will take your character out of the story and make up another one. Or maybe if you don't want your original character there you can PM me a replacement. However, since I have already worked out relations between the characters below, I doubt I will replace them. More likely, I just want a change in name. ALSO! Some of you did not send me a last name. I can make one up if you want. Recap – Any problems? PM ME! Ok now I present *drum roll"…. THE TRIBUTES OF THE 50****th**** HUNGER GAMES!**

*** Changed by me

**DISTRICT 1**

GIRL:

*** Collteen Heelia – 17-Years-Old (Contributed by _LoveTheBoyWithTheBread_)

BOY:

*** Crash Mar – 18-Years Old (Contributed by _awesomestory_)

**DISTRICT 2**

GIRL:

Cleota Vale – 15-Years-Old (Contributed by _Manawyrmz_)

BOY:

*** Kelsah Ellmont –15-Years-Old (Contributed by _Katrina Katniss_)

**DISTRICT 3**

GIRL:

Micra Platel – 15-Years-Old (Contributed by _BananaPieThiefX_)

BOY:

***Jack – 16-Years-Old (Contributed by _Stockholm_)

**DISTRICT 4**

GIRL:

***Zianna Starmist – 16-Years-Old (Contributed by me)

BOY:

Kevin Seabreeze – 16-Years-Old (Contributed by _Kevin-Genesis_)

**DISTRICT 5**

GIRL:

*** Aria Willis – 13-Years-Old (Contributed by _rainlite_)

BOY:

*** Kiera – 14-Years-Old (Contributed by _estar9821_)

**DISTRICT 6**

GIRL:

Natalaia Skye – 15-Years-Old (Contributed by _Flyingflower666'-'666_)

BOY:

***Jacinth Alburn – 14-Years-Old (Contributed by _Pages Like Petals_)

**DISTRICT 7**

GIRL:

Iris Wintersnow – 16-Years-Old (Contributed by _snowhiskers_)

BOY:

Nae Tyure – 17-Years-Old (Contributed by _The District Sleeps Alone_)

**DISTRICT 8**

GIRL:

***Luner Hale – 13-Years-Old (Contributed by _Luner Hale_)

BOY:

Sam Hale – 12 years old (Contributed by me)

**DISTRICT 9**

GIRL:

***Zee Ailynn – 13-Years-Old (Contributed by _Eyes for Eternity_)

BOY:

Gino Travacci – 15-Years-Old (Contributed by _Claratrix LeChatham_)

**DISTRICT 10**

GIRL:

*** Khali Sheden – 14-Years-Old (Contributed by _mockingbird xo_)

BOY:

Donny Marrow – 18-Years-Old (Contributed by _The Ultimate Person_)

**DISTRICT 11**

GIRL:

Thisle Bracken – 16-Years-Old (Contributed by _Kate of Carlay_)

BOY:

Dominick Hume – 12-Years-Old (Contributed by _JLW_)

**DISTRICT 12**

GIRL:

Frost Torreflamm – 14-Years-Old (Contributed by _Allers3_)

BOY:

Demetrius Ferren – 18-Years-Old (Contributed by _Drill Flash_)

**Thank you for submitting your characters. My apologies to those who did not get a spot :( They were all very good characters and it took me a LONG time to figure out whom I was going to use. BUT! DO NOT LOSE HOPE! FOR YOU STILL CAN ENTER A CHARACTER! When the time comes for coaches and stylists YOU will be called on to supply characters! Wait and watch for these opportunities! I shall start the first chapter and will soon post it, so if you want me to change something about your character PM me soon! HAPPY HUNGER GAMES!**

**~Leopardspotz17**


	3. Chapter 1 Reaping Day

**OH MY GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER!!!!!!! I finally found the time to finish this during break. And it totaled 21 pages, 9,134 words. I believe this is the longest chapter I have ever written. Although I'm glad I've gotten through this first chapter. Now I've got a feel for the characters. Note: I've changed the age of Khali Sheden from 14 to 17. I apologize for the age change, but halfway through her segment I thought it would be better if she was older. So please enjoy! Note - This fic is still rated T but be aware that there are some violent themes.**

**Disclaimer – I do not own anything related to or from the Hunger Games.**

**CHAPTER 1** **–Reaping Day**

**Capitol Worker –**

A small, stout man with electric blue hair was hurrying down the hallway of a particularly big building in the Capitol. Huffing, he slowed down to open a door and collect himself. Taking a deep breath he thought, _I've made it, thank God! There's no possible way they can refuse this idea…_ Now self-assured he strode into the conference room where the many producers of the Hunger Games sat along with President Snow, who was staring at him expectantly. All was quiet, as he laid a manila envelope on the long table. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I present to you the second Quarter Quell."

**Collteen Heelia, 17 years old, District 1 –**

Collteen angrily kicked a rock sending it skidding along the road. Damn her stupid sisters! Dad had left again, leaving Collteen alone with her two _perfect_ siblings. Why was it always her that was cast to the side?! Half the time Dad didn't even notice her… She balled up her fists and angry tears rolled down her cheeks. Well she would show them. She would be Dad's favorite soon, oh so very soon. With these thoughts Collteen let out a bubbling laugh and smiled wickedly a plan forming in her mind.

**Crash Mar, 18 years old, District 1 – **

Crash was outside as always, this time running through the streets for exercise. As he was nearing his house he heard laughter. Maniacal laughter, really. He slowed down to a walk and stayed close to the many houses on his side of the road. No need to pick a fight with a crazy person so close to Reaping Day. He needed to keep in good condition if he was going to win. As he rounded a corner a tall skinny figure was shaking with laughter in the middle of the road. She looked somewhat familiar and as Crash neared her, he recognized her from school. She was a grade beneath him. She was also the one that flirted with every boy she saw, not that she cared about them. She dumped them the minute another guy came along. Now what was her name? Caitlyn? Colleen? Eh, something like that. Crash ignored her and whistled a cheery tune, stepping into his house.

**Cleota Vale, 15 years old, District 2 –**

Cleota grinned when she entered school for the last day before Reaping Day. She was so excited for school to be out! And yeah, it's not like she wanted to be in the Hunger Games, but honestly! What are the chances that she will be picked? And anyways, she's trained her whole life to be ready if she was reaped. However, she's not the type to volunteer. She'd rather joke around with her friends about how awkward Dr. What's-his-face was in Heath Class when he was trying to give them the "birds and the bees" talk. She took a hair tie and put her jet-black hair up in a ponytail, and her green eyes shimmered. One last day and she was home free!

**Kelson Ellmont, 15 years old, District 2 –**

Kelson was admiring himself in his handheld mirror as he walked home from school. His perfect blond hair was blown back by the wind, and his light blue eyes looked amazing in the sunlight. His tanned skin was free of acne or any other blemish. _Damn, I am sexy_ he thought to himself.

He walked, or rather strutted, down the road, winking at anything in a skirt. He wolf-whistled at one particular girl, who's face turned crimson. That only boosted his ego, if possible. He sidled up to the baker's, and flirted with the girl at the counter shamelessly. He ended up leaving with two free loaves of bread.

As he walked home, Kelson passed the Victor's Village. He marveled at the mansions and wished that he could live that life. How hard could it be to win the Hunger Games? All he had to do was find some girl who was a strong contestant but have really low self-esteem. Then all he had to do is flatter her and live off her resources until they were the last two. And if all goes to plan she wouldn't be able to kill him because she loved him so much. _Now that's a plan!_ he thought, smiling to himself. _Victor's Village here I come._

**Micra Platel, 15 years old, District 3 –**

Micra was seated in her home waiting for her parents to come home from the factory. Her nose was buried in a book called, _Nature and It's Various Terrains. _Suddenly a pair of hands gripped her shoulders and shook her violently while a voice yelled in her ear. Micra jumped out of her chair and screamed like a banshee. Then she heard hysterical laughter coming from behind her. She whirled to see her best friend, Aaron, roaring with laughter. He was almost at the point of tears when she punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Jesus girl, you've got a heck of a punch! Although I do admit I deserved it." Aaron calmed down and grinned.

"But I don't regret doing it. You're just so much fun to scare!" he added. Micra scowled at him and replied,

"How am I still your friend? Honestly! You think I'd have better taste…" She bent over and retrieved her book from the floor, where it had fallen.

"I think it's because I'm just so damn lovable." Aaron said, still smiling uncontrollably. Micra had to smile too. This was one thing she loved about being friends with Aaron. He always put her in a good mood, even when he was being an idiot. He was just naturally happy, even when Reaping Day was so close… Micra pushed the dark thoughts out of her mind. Really? What were the chances?

**Jack, 16 years old, District 3 –**

Jack was alone. He was always alone. And he was happy.

Jack did not attend school. Jack did not have family. He did not care. Or so he tells himself.

His dead black hair stands out in stark contrast to his extremely pale skin, his yellowish eyes glowing in the dark. He strides silently through the city knowing this would be his last night there. He would volunteer.

Jack was completely alone. Jack was not happy.

**Zianna Starmist, 16 years old, District 4 –**

Zianna was sitting out on a rocky outcrop near the sea. Her ashy gray hair was being tossed around by the wind. A storm was coming. Dark clouds were rolling angrily across the sky, distant thunder echoing in her ears. She sighed and watched the waves crash against the shore and the water being pulled back again. The smell of salt and seaweed fills the air with a crispness that Zianna has breathed for her entire life. The ocean was life. The ocean was death. Images of another stormy day years ago flashed through her mind. Waves, lots of waves. And in the midst of it, a boat. Floating away, so far away. Sadness and grief overtake her, yet her face remains a set mask. Her eyes cloud over and her mind is somewhere else. Unfocused, the waves become and landscape of blurry blues, grays, and whites as the waves break. Zianna shakes her head, coming out of her trance and her dark blue eyes hold a certain sharpness, even though she is near sighted.

_All day,_

_Staring at the ceiling making_

_Friends with shadows on my wall._

_And all night,_

_Hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep,_

_Because tomorrow might be good for something._

_Hold on,_

_Feeling like I'm headed for a_

_Break down_

_And I don't know why._

_I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell._

_I know, right now you can't tell_

_But stay a while and maybe then you'll see,_

_A different side of me._

_I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired._

_I know, right now you don't care,_

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me,_

_and how I used to be_

_me_

_Talking to myself in public,_

_Dodging glances on the train._

_And I know,_

_I know they've all been talking 'bout me_

_I can hear them whisper_

_and it makes me feel there must be something wrong,_

_with me_

_Out of all the hours spent here_

_Somehow,_

_I've lost my mind._

_I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell._

_I know, right now you can't tell_

_But stay a while and maybe then you'll see,_

_A different side of me._

_I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired._

_I know, right now you don't care,_

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me,_

_and how I used to be_

She murmured this to herself and stands. Silhouetted by the dying sun, she turned for home.

**Kevin Seabreeze, 16 years old, District 4 –**

Her tall and athletic frame stood suddenly and strode off towards town. Kevin rises from his hiding place from behind a boulder and watches Zianna walk home. He watched her until she disappeared into the second house on the right. Kevin's normally bright and charming personality had fled him. It always did when he watched her. Not that it was always this way. Believe it or not, there was a time where Kevin Seabreeze wasn't a total stalker.

It started three years ago. Kevin had come down to the beach one summer day to swim, and he had seen her there. She did not see him. She merely stared at the horizon line. He had seen her around in town and at school, but he had never thought that much about her. A week later from then he was walking home when he passed a house. There was a bunch of yelling and then the same girl he saw before had stormed out the door, tears of rage running down her face. She took off for the beach nearly knocking into Kevin. The next time he walked by her house, she was sitting by the window staring into space. To Kevin she looked miserable. He began to take notice of this mysterious gray haired girl. Finally he learned her name. Zianna. Zianna Starmist. That's when he remembered something he had heard of a couple months before his interest in Zianna.

"Such a shame." His father boomed. "Orion Starmist was lost in that horrible storm today. God knows what will happen to his daughter. He was a good fisherman, that man..."

From that point on Kevin made attempts to talk to her. Simple hello's became conversations and eventually they were inseparable friends. Zianna was more open with Kevin. She was usually quiet, but his bubbly personality brought her out of her shell. Everything was perfect.

_That is before I ruined it all_, Kevin thought angrily. He remembered that one evening in this very spot, where they had been talking about their futures.

"I would want to be a poet or an artist. But in reality, it's very unlikely that it will happen." She had said.

"I imagine myself doing the same thing as my father. Nothing special. But I do want a family." Kevin replied.

"Well, there are plenty of pretty girls out there probably dying to marry you." Zianna said, waving a hand towards town.

"Actually, I've had my eye on one girl for a very long time." He said, turning to her.

"Really? Well she'd be stupid not to marry you."

"You really think that?" Kevin said, leaning closer to her.

"Well yeah! You're funny, smart, very good looking." By this point Zianna had turned to meet his eyes.

"What?" She asked.

"I love you" Kevin whispered and he kissed her. She did not kiss back. When he pulled away, he was looking at her shocked and confused face.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I'm n-not ready for this." She muttered quickly. Then she ran away.

_Why did I have to be so stupid!_ Kevin thought.

_Well it's not your fault that she doesn't love you back._

_But I know she's like that! I should've known she wouldn't be ready!_

_And what if she'll never be ready? Face it. __**She**__ rejected __**you**__. Why are you feeling sorry for her?_

_But we're friends…_

_Not anymore._

_I miss her._

_Well she doesn't miss you. Get over it. And stop stalking her for Christ's sake!_

Kevin sighed. It was true. He has to get over it.

_It's her fault. She said any girl was stupid not to take me. Well she's right. I don't need her. She can disappear for all I care._

And with that Kevin went home. And with little notice that Reaping Day was tomorrow.

**Aria Willis, 13 years old, District 5 –**

Amid the crowds of noisy kids, a small girl was sitting alone reading. Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and her golden eyes were trained on the page.

The book she was reading was quite interesting. It was found in the basement of the orphanage and it seemed to be very old. _A Wrinkle in Time_ was printed across its cover. Aria was very captivated with idea of dimensions and of "wrinkling" through time and space – a form of travel that defied the logic that the fastest way from point A to point B was a straight line. It was this out of the box thinking that Aria loved.

Suddenly a ball smacked the back of her head.

"Hey squirt! Mind giving us the ball back?" That sneer came from Damien. Damien happened to be the bully at the orphanage. He was lean and muscular and prowled around looking for unsuspecting prey, a.k.a. Aria. Torturing the poor girl with insults and jabs were one of Damien's favorite pastimes.

Aria turned to meet his gaze with cold eyes. She bent and picked up the ball and examined it. Halfway wondering if she should give it to him or not. The decision was easily made. She punted the ball over the fence surrounding the yard of the orphanage.

"Woops." she said. Aria sat back down and picked up where she left off. Little did she know Damien was right behind her. He snatched the book from her hands and held it where she couldn't reach.

"Now what's this? Hmmm… looks boring just like midget here." said Damien, smirking at Aria, who was trying in vain to get her book back.

"Give it back." said Aria, quietly.

"Or what? I hold all the power here, shorty." Damien snickered. That was it. Aria snapped. Aria walked away swiftly heading for the big tree in the back.

"Hey look! The little girl finally learned her place!" She heard Damien laugh. Aria reached between the trunk of the tree and the fence, and curled her hand around the smooth pole of wood. She touched the sharp edge of her spear with her finger and a bead of blood appeared. Perfect. She whipped around and hurled the spear at Damien. The weapon sped through the air and Aria saw Damien's eyes widen with fear a split second before the spear hit. The head of the spear sliced the very tip of his right ear and soon blood flowed from the cut. It wasn't a serious injury but it made the point.

"Next time it will be your head, if you don't watch it Damien." she called to him and she strode to retrieve her spear. Damien was clutching at his ear in shock and was soon stumbling away from Aria. He ran into the orphanage yelling for the nurse. Aria wiped the blood off the sharpened end of her spear and tucked it away under some bushes. Then she gingerly picked up the old book, which was lying in the dirt, forgotten by Damien. She found her place and resumed reading. Such an interesting story...

**Kier Cunningham, 14 years old, District 5 –**

"Ok. Here's the plan. Sam you sneak around the outer edge of the field, while Theo and Gary create a distraction. Then you go in, take the flag, and run back out quickly. Peter will have your back." Kier said, gesturing to the pavement where he had drawn a diagram with chalk.

"Dude, it's just capture the flag!" laughed Sam, shaking his head.

"_Just capture the flag?!_ This is war, man! Seriously. I have stakes in this. For one, my reputation, and two I bet my favorite sheep skin jacket that we'd win this game!" Kier said, shaking his friend's shoulders.

"Well, what do we get if we win?" Theo asked.

"Other than gloating rights, a new foal that Toby just got." he replied.

"Awesome, a horse! Ok let's do it." Sam was grinning as he nonchalantly strode to the edge of the field.

"You guys ready?" Kier called to Toby, who was captain of the other team.

"If you're ready to lose!" came the reply. _Oh it's on_ Kier thought. He watched as his plan fell into action. In no time at all they had captured Toby's flag earning a point. Kier's thin frame wasn't very well suited to sports and being an unusually loud person, he couldn't pull off the stealth needed to ding-dong-ditch with his friends. However, he was a planner, and a very tactical one at that. Most of the time he thought of himself like the general behind the army. It was these moments, when a plan was executed without a hitch, which made Kier happier than anyone in the world.

He looked up at the sun, which was burning bright in the middle of the sky. Hopefully this game would wrap up quickly. He really needed to get home to help on the farm. Maybe on the way he could pick up some herbs for Leia, his sister and aspiring apothecary. He ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair, smiling. _Life is good._

**Natalaia Skye, 15 years old, District 6 –**

"Natalaia… Funny seeing you here." A voice drawled from behind her.

"Hello Ben. And it's not really surprising seeing as you've followed me here for the past week. Trying to get up the nerve to tell me something? Or are you trying to waste my time?" Natalaia replied smoothly, not even bothering to turn around.

"So you noticed me, huh?" He said, and she heard him lean up against a tree.

"Yes, you're not really that stealthy. So do you have something to say or what? I've got things to do." she turned to him and folded her arms against her chest.

"Yes, actually." Ben said. Suddenly she was pinned under him. Again, not surprising. She noticed the creep throwing glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking.

"You know I've had my eye on you for a while now. What do you say Natalaia? Wanna have some fun?" Ben said, smirking. _That cocky moron_ she thought. But she didn't want to pound him just yet. She _did _want to have some fun, but not the way Ben was thinking.

"You have approximately 5 seconds to get off me, otherwise there will be hell to pay." she said calmly.

"Not gonna happen sweetheart. I'm not leaving until I get what I want." He whispered this last part in her ear, emphasizing his words by pressing himself closer to her.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Natalaia whispered back. Within seconds, she had brought he knee upward slamming into Ben's ribs with a satisfying _crack_. He grunted in pain and fell off her onto his side. Instantly Natalaia was up brushing off dirt and she began to walk casually away.

"You bitch!" Ben yelled, and he charged at her back. Smirking Natalaia spun to the side right before he could hit her and he ran smack dab into a tree. He groaned and brushed off the bits of bark that were stuck into his arm. Natalaia was still striding unhurriedly through the forest. God was she having fun.

Spewing profanities Ben attempted to creep up behind her. He was as noisy as a bull in a china shop, but she let him draw closer still. These things are always much more entertaining when the opponent thought they still stood a chance. Ben pushed her up against a tree, holding her hands behind her back. Her feet were wedged between his and the tree trunk, and for almost any other girl, this would've been a very vulnerable position. However, Natalaia was not any other girl.

"Still think you can overpower me? I bet you do. I've seen how you walk around town; head up high like you're better than everyone else. It's about time someone showed you your place. Luckily, I've got time on my hands." He growled.

"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots. Really. You're quite menacing." mocked Natalaia. He pressed her harder into the tree.

"When I'm finished with you, you won't have the nerve to speak like that ever again. But if you stop struggling this won't be so hard on you. Ready to cooperate?" He sneered.

"Oh yeah! I'm totally going to let you rape me in the woods. What a wonderful way to spend my evening! I really would like to take you up on your offer but as I said earlier, I've got things to do." And with that, she ripped her left arm out of his grasp and brought her elbow back, crashing into his head. He stumbled back, clutching the area around his eye. You could tell he was going to get a shiner. _Enough playing around, I think it's time to end this._ Natalaia thought. She reached behind her shoulders to grab the handles of her swords. She pulled both of them out of their sheaths looking at them with pride. Ben, however, was looking at them in fear.

The swords were nice and light, making them easy to maneuver and to carry. She flipped her hair out of her face. When using her swords, Natalaia preferred to have both eyes trained on the target. With her wispy black hair swept to the side, Ben could now see a jagged scar running down the side of her face. He could also see that her ice blue right eye did not match her left, which was a stunning topaz. She looked exotic. She also looked very dangerous.

"Give me one reason not to castrate you, you worthless piece of slime." She snarled.

"Please! I promise I won't ever do it again! Just don't hurt me!" Ben whimpered. He was a mess. Natalaia chuckled inwardly.

"You'd better keep that promise, or else. I'll be watching." With that last comment, Natalaia whirled and sprinted agilely through the trees, melting away into the shadows.

**Jacinth Alburn, 14 years old, District 6 –**

There was another person in the woods that evening, however Jacinth Alburn was just listening quietly. He was enjoying the sights and sounds of nature when he heard crashing through the bushes and voices. One seemed to be yelling. Jacinth slowly crept through the trees, moving fluidly from branch to branch, not making a single sound. When he finally saw what was happening, he stifled a laugh. What he saw was a kid from school pinning Natalaia to a tree. But what made him laugh was the light in Natalaia's eye and the smirk she held on her face. Like a cat with a mouse, she was toying with him. He almost felt bad for the poor guy, he still deserves what was coming to him, but no one wants to get on the bad side of Natalaia Skye.

He heard a couple comments from Natalaia, _probably dripping with sarcasm_ he thought, before she brought her elbow back with enough force to give the wanna-be-rapist a concussion. She was smiling and she pulled her swords out with a flourish. Again, Jacinth could barely stop his laughter – the kid looked like he was going to wet himself. With a flip of her hair, Natalaia's scar was uncovered, as was her right eye. Jacinth sobered a little when he saw the scar. Natalaia glared at the kid, probably making threats, before she put her swords away and sprinted through the trees.

Jacinth followed her trail from up above. Fifteen minutes later he found her lounging under a tree, sharpening her blades with a stone.

"So, do anything interesting lately?" Jacinth asked. Natalaia looked up at him with an amused look.

"Oh, nothing much. Ate lunch. Went hunting. Got jumped in the woods. The usual."

Jacinth chuckled. He swung backwards on his branch and hung upside down, holding on with his legs. His dark brown hair hung down, it's reddish tint showing in the sunlight.

"So, you nervous?" he asked, smile falling from his face.

"'Bout what?" Natalaia had resumed sharpening her swords.

"You know! It's Reaping Day tomorrow." Jacinth was staring at her intently, watching for any expression of worry. There was none.

"Nope. Not really. Since I have no family and I can provide for myself, I don't take any tessarae. Plus if I _was_ picked, it's not like I have anything to return to here. It would be pretty much all gain for me. If I die? So what. Life's so boring, that I beat down creepy guys for fun." Natalaia shrugged.

"Well if you think it would be so beneficial why don't you volunteer?" Jacinth snapped. He was mad that she showed no concern for him. She may not have to take any tessarae, but he had 6 little brothers and sisters to help take care of. Including little Catherine, who was severely burned in a fire a few years back.

"Only cocky idiots would volunteer. As much as I would be fine with being picked, I'm not so self-assured that I think I would win. There are people out there who trained their whole lives to compete in these stupid Games. Am I willing to bet my life on my skills? No." Natalaia stood as she said this.

Jacinth looked her up and down. Her skintight dress was made out of a stretchy material leaving a lot of space for her to move. Her wispy black hair and mismatched eyes, plus her scar, made for a very intimidating person. Jacinth couldn't help but compare her to a jungle cat – somewhat lazy, preferring to hang around in trees, yet completely and utterly dangerous.

_If she did volunteer she'd probably win._ He thought. She nodded to him before taking off toward her home, a small house nestled deep in the forest. He heard a distant "Good Luck" from her, as he leapt down from his tree.

As he walked home, he played with a bracelet Catherine made for him. It was made of ivy weaved into a rope; it was his most treasured item. His thoughts turned to her scars from the burns of that terrible day. He remembered the fire vividly.

_He was coming home from school one day when he smelled smoke. As he rounded a corner he saw his house up in flames. Neighbors were armed with buckets of water and were desperately trying to put out the blaze. His many brothers and sisters were huddled around his oldest brother, Jay. He was counting the kids in a panic._

"_Jacinth! There you are! Thank God you're all right. Is that everyone?! Please just stay still for a moment!" Jay had yelled. The frenzied children stood still. Horror washed over Jay's face._

"_Where's Catherine?! Where is she?! Hayley did she come out with you?!" Jay looked at five-year-old Hayley whose eyes were wide with fear._

"_No! She was with momma!" she sobbed. Jacinth and Jay scanned the growing crowd, looking for their mother. They saw their father trying to push his way through the mob to get to his children._

"_Where's your mother?!" He said, when he finally broke through the mass of people. Both Jacinth and Jay looked in dismay at the still burning house._

"_They're both still inside." Jay whispered, fear washing out any remaining color in his pale face. Jay suddenly was running into the building, breaking down the smoldering door. After several agonizing minutes that seemed to drag on for days, Jay reappeared, coughing and covered in soot. He was holding Catherine in one arm and supporting their limping mother with the other. Once out of the inferno he collapsed. Jacinth's father kept the children back while his grandmother attended to his siblings and mother._

It turned out that the fire had started when their mother was cooking dinner. She had started a fire in the hearth when one of the little kids started crying, having tripped over a step and scraping their knee. While she was attending to the child she smelled smoke. She sat the kid down on a chair and told them to wait a moment. She entered the kitchen to find that the fire had caught onto the thin carpet, which in turn set fire to the pile of wood and kindling that was kept near the hearth. The fire was way too big to put out with the little water she had at hand.

She ran to get the children out of the house. Jay was just walking in the door when the scared kids started pouring out the door. Their mother called to Jay to keep the kids together and to get help from the neighbors. She was hurrying up the stairs to the Catherine's room where she was playing with her doll. She picked her up and started down the stairs, only to see that the fire had spread into the living room. A wall of fire was blocking their path. She turned, intending to head upstairs to one of the windows, when the step, weakened by the heat and age, fell through. Her legs were stuck, and Catherine had hit her head on another step and was knocked unconscious. They were stuck there for maybe ten minutes before Jay burst in through the door.

Their mother was barely conscious and her lungs burned from all the smoke she'd been inhaling. But it was Catherine who had suffered the worst. She hadn't woken up at all and had numerous severe burns. After two days she regained consciousness, but it took two weeks before she was able to get out of bed. Even longer before she was let out of their grandmother's house. In the present she had problems breathing and barely had a sense of smell due to the damage from the smoke, and often had pains from the injuries to her left arm and leg.

Jacinth shuddered, remembering that horrible day. He couldn't even look at a fire without thinking of it as evil. He entered his house and immediately went to bed. Before he drifted off he thought of the Hunger Games. _Please let it not be me… There has already been far too much suffering in my family for me to be picked._

**Iris Wintersnow, 16 years old, District 7 –**

Iris was sitting in between two branches, relaxing in the shade. She barely heard the sawing and chopping noises coming from the lumber workers, even though they were not far away. However, she was not concerned with the lumberjacks. She'd see them before they got close. Right now, she was caught up in watching raindrops sliding off of leaves and plopping to the ground. It was the little things that counted for Iris. The big things always went wrong.

She drummed her dexterous fingers against the smooth trunk of the birch she was sitting in. She loved birch trees. For one, her white blond hair blended in with the trunk perfectly. She watched birds flit through the air, and smiled at a pair of mockingjays who were serenading each other. Everything was in perfect clarity. Colors were bright, edges were defined, and she could see as far as the horizon. It more than made up for her near deafness, in Iris's opinion.

She saw people in the distance moving closer to her tree, and she sighed. Iris slid off the branch and landed lightly on the forest floor. She padded across the layer of leaves in her homemade moccasins, not making a single sound. She stayed in the coolness of the shadows, almost gliding along. Once she was farther away from the workers, she pulled herself up into another birch in one fluid movement.

Iris sat there. And watched. And thought. She thought of family and friends, or rather lack of. She thought of life. She thought of nature. But most of all she thought of the Hunger Games. She doubted she'd be chosen. She lived in the forest where resources were abundant, therefore no tessarae. She did have to enter though; after all she did attend school. Not that anyone took notice of her. But that was how she wanted it. Attention was always bad, at least for Iris. She wondered what she would do if she had to participate in the Games. _I will do this_ she decided. Hole up in a tree and enjoy life while she still had it.

The sun had set and the sky was getting darker. The already soft sounds of the workers faded away into nothing. Iris pulled her jacket around her tightly and drifted to sleep in her tree.

**Nae Tyure, 17 years old, District 7 –**

Nae was lying on his back in the middle of a valley. He was alone in the blissful silence. The world was made of brilliant blues and emerald greens. The sunlight reflecting off of everything made the scenery glow. Nae had bad eyesight. Very bad. Although he didn't think it was bad at all. It made everything even more beautiful. All images looked airbrushed.

Without clarity of sight, Nae's hearing was as sharp as a bat's. In fact, half of the time Nae didn't run into anything, because he heard sound waves bouncing off that object. So despite his bad eyesight, Nae's aim was very good.

Bird song was now filling the air. Nae separated all the different noises in his head. The melodic tunes of the mockingjays… the soft whistles of the robins… even the far off tapping of a woodpecker, working away at a tree. Nae smiled. He loved places like this. Far away from bothersome people and those annoying sawing noises. It was at times like these where he loved to get lost in his thoughts.

He pulled his skinny arms behind his head and sighed. His light grey hair fell into his hazel eyes. He closed his eyes and thought to himself, _What did I do to deserve such a wonderful world as this?_

**Luner Hale, 13 years old, and Sam Hale, 12 years old, District 8 –**

The ball was flying through the air towards the corner of the goal. Luner ran and jumped for the ball, hoping to God that she would get to it in time. Her fingers snatched the ball out of the air and she somersaulted on the ground. A whistle blew and the game was over. She had saved it. Cheers came from her team as they all tackled her in pure joy. They had won the championship.

For the rest of that evening Luner's face was stuck in an ecstatic grin. Everything was perfect.

"Hey Lu-lu!" Sam, her brother, came running up to her. Sam was twelve-years old.

"Hey Sam. Guess what?" Luner said, falling into step with him on their way home.

"I bet you won that soccer game you've been so hyped up about all week." He said, smirking at her overjoyed expression.

"You know me so well. I was totally in the zone. At the end I really thought I wasn't going to make it, but I did! Best game ever." She babbled on and on. Sam rolled his eyes, but he was happy that Luner was happy. Sam walked home with Luner, hand in hand laughing about friends, and past soccer games. However, Sam's laughter wasn't as genuine as Luner thought.

Sam was very nervous for tomorrow. Tomorrow, it would be his first time being entered into the Reaping Ball. His name was being entered three times. Luner told him it was nothing to worry about and that he wouldn't be picked. Still Luner was the most optimistic kid he knew and that sometimes skewed her view on reality.

As they entered their house, Sam was growing very, very worried for both his sister and himself. Feeling the exact opposite, Luner practically skipped upstairs to read a good book. Sam sat alone down in the kitchen, whittling away at a block of wood. He always did this to calm his nerves. It gave him something to focus on. His father's old pocketknife cut away at the wood, and soon a figure began to appear. It was a little soldier. No armor or anything, he wasn't that good yet, but it was fairly realistic. It wore a tunic and pants just like he did, but carried a sword. It wore a simple little helmet on its head. The little figure looked awkward carrying the sword – it was much too big in proportion to his body. And the helmet looked a little too big too. It looked as if any moment the little soldier would tumble over.

Sam sighed and put his newly carved figure down, and ventured upstairs to the room her shared with Luner. He entered to find her sitting cross-legged on her bed, her thick, blue-rimmed glasses sitting slightly crooked on her nose. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail so it wouldn't fall onto the page. She was completely oblivious that he had come in at all.

Sam sat down next to her and suddenly gave her a hug.

"Hey, what's this for?" Luner asked, gesturing toward Sam's arms wrapped around her.

"I love you, you know that right?" Sam murmured into her shoulder.

"Yeah, of course! And I love you too, bro. But what's with the sudden love-fest here?" she asked again, smiling.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew. You can never say 'I love you' enough." He said, before running back through the door. Luner smiled at the spot where Sam had just been. She loved her little brother, but he could be really odd sometimes.

She pushed her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose and resumed reading.

**Zee Ailynn, 13 years old, District 9 –**

The afternoon found Zee being pursued by one of her classmates.

"Just leave me alone, already!" She yelled back at Jackson, a boy in her grade at school.

"Come on! Just come to the party! Everyone's going to be there. I'll be very offended if you didn't come." He called, though his panting interrupted his sentences. When she was mad Zee could move really fast.

She whirled around to stare at the boy, who had finally caught up to her. He was tall, athletic, had blond hair and blue eyes - the picture perfect popular boy. So why in Hell would he be inviting her to a party? She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous like some of the other girls she went to school with. She thought of herself as _maybe_ somewhat pretty. She had dull brown hair that fell straight down to her shoulders, normal brown eyes, and a dusting of freckles over her pale skin tone. Just Plain Jane. A very serious-looking Plain Jane.

"Ok, now tell me why you _really_ invited me, Jackson. I'm not sporty, or popular, or even pretty. So tell me why." She looked dead into his eyes. He fidgeted and looked down at his shoes.

"Well, it doesn't seem like you have a lot of friends and I never see you at any type of social event… so I kind of felt bad. That's why I invited you." He said, still seeming to be examining the dirt on the road.

"Don't you dare pity me." Zee ground out before she took off.

"I was just trying to be nice!" Yelled Jackson angrily.

_That was probably really rude, but who cares. I don't want someone inviting me to something purely out of pity._ She thought. She slowed to a walk when she rounded the corner. She hated to be pitied. The pitied are weak. She was _not_ weak. She kicked a stone down the dirt road and watched it roll. She supposed she had to hurry up and get home. Breyan would be waiting for her to cook dinner. God knows her good-for-nothing mother wouldn't do anything. With these thoughts in mind she ran home to take care of her little brother.

**Gino Travacci, 15 years old, District 9 –**

Gino was whistling a happy tune as he walked along. He always did. Nothing ever seemed to get Gino into a bad mood. He was always cheerful. To the point of insanity. Despite the worry and dread that hung over District 9 like a cloud, Gino was still optimistic. The Hunger Games weren't that bad. It was reason to make you happier. When your days are numbered, you should be as happy as you can before you die.

**Khali Sheden, 17 years old, District 10 –**

Khali was leaning up against a wall, in the city-like District 10. Factories were still working even though it was becoming very late. But Khali could wait. But she wasn't waiting for a factory worker. She was waiting outside a fight club. It was located in the poor part of the District where she lived. Yells and cheers were heard from the door. It descended into an old storage area under a condemned factory. Dim, flickering bulbs flooded the alley with light when the door opened.

A handsome young man exited with a smug look on his face. He was wearing a pair of shades even though it was dark out. He grinned at her as he walked by and Khali rolled her eyes. After a minute or so a bunch more people exited. A group of men were supported another guy who looked pretty beat up. _Guess he was the loser._ She thought. Finally the man she was waiting for walked out.

He was sleazy looking; his black hair was slicked back with gel. He was dragging a young girl by the arm after him. He was clearly intoxicated, as shown by his staggering steps and glazed over eyes. He stumbled by her with the girl, not noticing she was there. Khali followed silently, keeping a safe distance behind him.

"Please, I just want to go home now." the girl's voice wavered in fear.

"Come on, darlin'. The night's still young!" Khali saw the drunkard lean into her face. The girl's nose wrinkled in disgust, probably from the smell of alcohol.

"I really think I should go." She started to pull away, when the man's hand slapped her across the face.

"Don't you walk away from me!" he roared. Yep, this was the man she was waiting for. Khali stepped out from the shadows, the moonlight illuminating her bronze skin and silky black curls. It also glinted off the cleaver she was holding. Not as good as an axe, but it was much more portable.

"I think it's time you stepped away from the girl, sir." Khali said, striding closer to the two. Yes this guy was an abusive jerk, but Khali figured everyone deserved a warning first.

"Hello, beautiful. Care to join us?" The idiot gripped the girl's arm tighter as he said this. He didn't seem to notice the weapon she was carrying, most likely because his eyes were trained on her chest. Khali really hated guys like these.

She swung the cleaver at the hand that was gripping the girl's arm. The drunk seemed to realize he was being attacked and quickly pulled his hand away from her. But not quickly enough. The cleaver sliced off the top segment of two of his fingers. The man howled in pain and shoved his hand under his arm, trying to stop the flow of blood. The girl was frozen in fear.

"Go. Don't come back into this part of town. It's not safe." Khali said. The girl snapped out of whatever trance she was in and ran like the devil himself was chasing after her. Khali turned back to the man.

"You should leave too, unless you want some more fingers missing." Khali growled threateningly. The man quickly stumbled away, afraid for his life. Once he was well away, Khali left. She walked to her home. She threw the cleaver up in the air and caught it casually, as if it were something as commonplace as a stone. Usually, she preferred to throw axes but when she only had one at hand she liked to keep hold of the weapon.

As she walked into the house, she saw her mother in bed breathing heavily. Almost wheezing. But she was always like that. She had a lung condition that kept her from doing pretty much anything that involved a lot of movement. Her dad still wasn't home from the factory. It was a hard life, what with gang violence and living from paycheck to paycheck. It was easier before, when her older sister was around. Then she got sucked up into one of the local mobs. In one of their fights, she was taken by an enemy gang. Later she was found beaten and killed. After that Khali vowed to try and stop those occurrences. She would never let another girl die that way.

**Donny Marrow, 18 years old, District 10 –**

Donny exited the fight club smirking, as he strode out of the alley he grinned at a girl leaning up against the wall. She rolled her eyes and looked away. Donny continued on his way, massaging his knuckles. The fight wasn't too interesting. The guy wasn't that experienced; he swung wildly leaving no defense against Donny's accurate punches. Fridays were good days for Donny. It was the end of the week and he almost never lost at the fight club. And the weekends were always nice to look forward to.

_At least most of the time they are._ He thought. Of course it was Reaping Day tomorrow. At eighteen it was his last time in the Reaping Ball. It was also the time where he had the most entries. It was something to be concerned about. But he doubted the Games could be worse than what he dealt with here on the streets. Sure, recently he had tried to get out of the gangs and took up Christianity to redeem himself, but…. you can't hide from the streets. Plus, pick pocketing was one of the main ways he "earned" money. These days money was important to get, since he was now living alone.

As a part of his… resignation from the gangs, Donny told off his Uncle Troy – the man who was responsible for turning him into a criminal – and thus he was now living alone. His parents disowned him after his Uncle got a hold of him, so there was no going back. Right now, Donny was going from place to place. Usually he'd seduce some girl and stay with her for a night.

He ran a hand through his spiky black hair, making sure it looked good. He pulled off his shades, revealing sea-green eyes, and cleaned them with his shirt. He then shoved his hands in his jean pockets. Having only seven fingers wasn't very attractive. He entered an old building not to far away from the fight club. It housed a black market of sorts. He strode up to a girl next to a stand selling beer. She was clearly drunk. She giggled a lot and in absolutely no time she had invited him to her place. Once they got there she passed out. He picked her up and put her on the bed and he slept on her couch.

**Thisle Bracken, 16 years old, District 11 –**

Thisle swung her scythe at the tall stalks of grain. In one graceful swoop they fell to the ground. She quickly gathered them up into a basket on her back. The sun was low in the sky, and the fields of the grain were golden.

_Beautiful, but somehow the tedious labor of working these fields ruins the moment._ She thought. As the sun sunk ever lower, a mockingjay flew by singing the tune that signaled that the workday was over. Thisle straightened up and rolled her shoulders. She ran towards where they collected all the grain. She loped in long strides. Thisle was very tall and solidly built. Her black hair was cropped short and was tied back. Her high cheekbones cast long shadows on her tanned face in the light of the sunset.

She slowed to a stop and dumped her grain in the large casket. The supervisor nodded at her and she left without a word.

**Dominick Hume, 12 years old, District 11 –**

Dominick was up in the trees whistling the tune to the mockingjays. He was short and skinny so this was his responsibility. Other than that he was pretty much useless. He had no muscles, not even the wiry ones that most kids his age had from working. His longish brown hair was always falling into his eyes and was constantly pushing it out of his face. When he had to work the fields, many people yelled at him to stop messing with his hair and to get to work already.

He was also bullied a lot, for quite a number of things. His height, his high-pitched voice, and for crying all the time. Which, of course, made him cry even more.

**Frost Torreflamm, 14 years old, District 12 –**

Frost hated the world. She looked with cold, ice blue eyes at everyone at school. Her jet-black hair washed out her pale face, giving her a gothic look. She didn't make friends, mostly because people were too happy. She found it annoying. Her slim form was often seen it the back of class, wearing dark colors or just plain black. Honestly, no one would notice if she didn't show up at all.

**Demetrius Ferren, 18 years old, District 12 –**

Demetrius was a nice guy. Cunning, courageous, and was very friendly. He was short, yet strong, and his shock of black hair could never be tamed. His eyes were a very light gray, and looked almost white. His ears were slightly pointed, giving Demetrius a dwarfish look. He was pretty smart too, and independent. Just your average nice guy.

**Audience –**

The Friday night before the Reaping, the theme for the Quarter Quell was announced.

"To represent that one must be able to adapt, the arena for the Games shall change every night. Be on your toes tributes. You'll never know where you'll wake up next." President Snow's words filled every house in every district.

The next day the tributes were picked. From District one, a small 15 year old was picked, but a crazy-eyed girl quickly volunteered. The boy from District one also volunteered and walked up to the stage with confidence.

District two provided a surprised but not particularly concerned girl, and a boy who volunteered. The boy walked up to the stage as if he was walking down a runway, winking at the cameras.

The girl from District three was thin and was on the short side. As she walked up to the platform her eyes were wide and averted down in disbelief. The boy volunteered. Most people in the crowd of District three looked very confused, as if none of them had ever seen the boy before.

The next pair from District four was an ashy-haired girl and a dirty-blonde haired boy. The girl stared off into space, looking pretty oblivious to what was happening, except for when the boy was called. Then she looked concern. Although the boy ignored her concerned look and took the place as a tribute with an air of determination.

District five gave a small, athletically built girl and tall, thin boy. The girl merely shrugged when her name was pulled. The boy on the other hand looked shocked and full of despair. He looked towards a girl on homemade crutches who was crying hysterically. He sucked it up though, and looked determined not the shed a tear.

From District six came a girl with wispy black hair, who didn't look too sad about being picked. She carried on with an uncaring manner as she took her place on the stage. The look on the boy's face was heartbreaking. He walked up to the stage with disbelief, as if he thought it was all a dream.

District seven's tributes were a graceful moving girl and a gray haired boy. The girl's movements were fluid and almost looked like she was dancing. Her long white hair hung down like silk. She looked elfin. The boy was looking around, and looked… dazzled? by the lights. His hair fell into his eyes and he walked up the aisle looking around curiously.

The boy and girl from District eight were by far the saddest of all the tributes. They were brother and sister. When the girl got called she looked stunned, and her expression stayed that way until her brother was called. While the hostess for the District eight Reaping thought it was wonderful to have a family in the Games, the brother and sister looked very grim indeed.

District nine's tributes were entertaining to watch. The girl maintained a strong expression and held her head high when she got picked, but once she was up on stage she stared daggers into the host's back. The boy, oddly enough, was smiling the whole way through.

The contestants chosen from District ten were pretty intimidating. The girl had cascading black curls and was very pretty, but she held a "don't mess with me" expression that made even the host anxious. The boy that was called wore shades and was smirking deviously. Those watching could've sworn that he stole the host's wallet…

The girl from District eleven was definitely the biggest of all of the girls thus far. She kept a stone-like expression throughout the entire proceeding. The boy seemed to be the exact opposite of the girl. He was small, thin, and cried. A lot.

Finally, District twelve's tributes were a depressed-looking gothic girl, and a short, stocky boy. The girl held an "I hate the world" expression, and the boy looked unpleasantly surprised, but like he was going to make the best out of it.

The people of the Capitol were very pleased with the Reaping. And after each choosing of the tributes one sentence echoed through all the TV's in Panem.

_Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor._

**So… opinions? Please let me know if there are errors. Also! Please send in characters to fill the spots of coaches and stylists! Same format as last time! So get going! Use your wonderful imaginations. Next chapter will be about everyone's experiences in the Capitol. So little bits of the train ride. Then mostly training, and how everyone scored will be shown. Chapter three will be interviews! I'm so excited! But right now I'm exhausted. Hopefully you all will be pleased! REVIEW! Flames are welcome as long as they help me get better… although I'd prefer no flames at all… ;)**

***Song from Zianna's segment – **_**Unwell**_** by Matchbox Twenty**


	4. The Capitol Part One

**Hello, everyone. Chapter two is proving to be a very long segment. Included in this update are the experiences of Districts One, Two, and Three. 32 pages all together. Chapter two covers the goodbyes from families to the end of the Opening Ceremonies. Chapter three will cover the training and hopefully interviews. There will be four parts to each chapter. I can only do three Districts per update. I did not know what I was getting into by writing this. But I shall finish! I promise you that. But you must be patient.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything expressly from, and or mentioned in Suzanne Collins' work.**

**Dedication - I would like to dedicate this segment to my good friend, Flyingflower666'-'666. She has helped me in choosing the songs for Chapter Two, and recommended _Whisper_, by Evanescence. ENJOY!**

**CHAPTER 2 – The Capitol – Part 1**

**Collteen Heelia (17) and Crash Mar (18), District 1 –**

Both Collteen and Crash were very disappointed to see who was chosen to be their mentors. The male mentor was Rodrigo, who had won the 39th Hunger Games. He wasn't the best looking guy. And let's just say his outside reflected his inside. When the District one tributes met up with him he regarded them with disgust. He constantly grumbled about having to mentor these "nitwits" as he called them. He told them right out when he met them, that he didn't care if they lived or died, just not to wear on his patience. Collteen doubted he had any patience to begin with.

As for the female mentor, Dary, she wasn't as nearly as bad as Rodrigo. She sincerely wanted both Collteen and Crash to survive, but she was very… sad. She was gentle and encouraging. However, determination was lacking in anything she did. It looked like they were on their own for the most part.

During the train ride Crash and Collteen stared at each other in an awkward silence.

_Jeez, look at her, so crazy-eyed. And she's so skinny… Don't think she'll make it far at all. And she's not really pretty… ok maybe she is sort of… wow. Now that I think of it she's beautiful..._ Crash thought.

_Why the Hell is he staring at me?!_ thought Collteen. Soon the sun sunk lower in the sky. A servant from the Capitol entered the living room-like area, interrupting the silence.

"Dinner is ready. Please follow me," he squeaked in that ridiculous Capitol accent, before turning around and hastily walking into the hallway. They entered a room with a long dining table, filled with the most food Collteen had ever seen in her life. Don't get her wrong. It wasn't like she had ever gone hungry, but her father was very _careful_ with his money. She had never seen this kind of extravagance before.

Crash on the other hand wasn't too impressed. He was hungry though. They began to eat, from roast duck to the crème brulee. Rodrigo proceeded to get very intoxicated, whilst Dary pushed peas around on her plate.

When the train finally pulled up to its stop, both tributes were hurriedly brought inside the towering Remake Center. All glass, steel, and lights, the Capitol was unlike anything Collteen had ever seen before. Crash didn't care in the slightest – his mind was on the other tributes who would be arriving soon enough.

Collteen was herded into a room, where a team of stylists converged on her. Soon she was drowned in perfumes and such while they plucked her eyebrows, filed her nails, and washed her hair. Once she felt her skin was thoroughly scrubbed off, the team of stylists left, leaving her alone and without clothes in the room. She looked at herself in the mirror, and saw that she didn't look half bad. Suddenly a woman loudly made her way into the room.

Collteen turned and what she saw hurt her eyes. Or rather what she didn't see. The bright lights of the room seemed to… _reflect_ off this strange woman. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw that the woman was pretty much all gold. From her hair to her eyes, and even her teeth were inlaid with gold and gemstones. She smiled at Collteen.

"Hi! I'll be your stylist!" she said, very over-excitedly. _Please God, no,_ Collteen thought, looking at her stylist in horror. After hours more of trying on dresses and fixing her hair and make-up, her stylist, Leeveth, finally let her go. According to her, the chariot ride would be in two days, because they had to wait for the other tributes to get there.

Crash went through a similar experience, and his stylist was no better than Collteen's. After getting through the prep team, he met his stylist. She was all silver. Apparently she and Collteen's stylist were sisters. He was told to call her Rena. After about two minutes Crash was very annoyed.

By the time their stylist's had finished, it was very late. Some attendants from the Capitol led them to the Training Center. Inside, the glass elevator sped up what seemed like thousands of floors before they reached theirs. Outside of the elevator the wall was marked with a shining gold "1." They both fell asleep quickly, and Collteen reveled in the fact that she would be able to lounge around for the whole of the next day.

The leisure time they had seemed like torture to Crash. He knew well enough that eventually they would be led down to where the chariots were waiting. He envisioned the other contestants… This was truly driving him crazy.

Meanwhile, Collteen was wandering around their floor, curiously pushing buttons and hitting switches. When she came to her private bathroom she nearly screamed with delight. Half an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom smelling strongly like apples and cinnamon.

The next day, both Crash and Collteen were woken up at "an ungodly hour," as Collteen put it, and were thrown at the mercy of their stylists and prep teams. It took hours and hours to get them ready. Before they left, both Leeveth and Rena told them that they could pick a song to play while they were on the chariot. Collteen picked the song, since Crash couldn't care less. It was an upbeat and conventional song, and gave off the impression Collteen wanted. When they were finally led down to the bottom of the Remake Center, they found that they were the first ones there.

Collteen looked at her reflection on the polished side of the chariot. Her hair was piled up on her head beautifully, and dainty emerald pins were woven through it. The makeup made her eyes look smoky, and her pale skin appeared flushed. Her eyes matched the brilliant green of the emeralds that adorned her hair. The dress followed the theme of emeralds, and was a shimmering black with emeralds going around in swirling patterns. Her nails were painted with a shiny clear coat and Leeveth even went all the way into putting a dusting of silver glitter over her. One stray curl fell into her face. Collteen gasped at her striking appearance. She thought of herself as pretty, but she was never quite obvious as so.

Crash wasn't looking at his appearance at all. He was waiting for the other tributes. But to be fair to his stylist, Rena did a good job. He was wearing a tuxedo made out of the same shimmering fabric that made up Collteen's dress. The buttons were jade, as were his cufflinks. His eyes matched the jade perfectly, and Rena and Leeveth commented on what good fortune it was that both of their tributes had green eyes.

A boy and a girl entered the room. They strode up to the chariot next to them, which was marked with a "2." The girl had jet-black hair and was wearing an elegant nurses outfit. The boy had blonde hair and light blue eyes. Currently he was looking at his reflection, straightening out his doctor's coat and smiling what he obviously thought was a winning smile.

_The girl looks good. Definitely a Career. She's got muscle…_ mused Crash.

_Not so sure about the boy though… Jeez, why is he so obsessed with himself? Well Pretty-Boy won't make it too far, _he thought with contempt, looking at the District Two boy with disgust.

Next were the District Three tributes. The boy came in before the girl and sat angrily on his chariot. The girl came soon after. They were both dressed in black. Crash didn't understand what they were supposed to be.

_God, the boy looks like a vampire. He's super pale and those yellow eyes! Creepy dude. But he doesn't seem like too much of a threat. The girl doesn't look too dangerous either. She's tiny and slight. Well it looks like we can count out District Three this year._ Crash was comfortably sizing up the opponents.

District Four came in, looking as if they had just stepped out of the ocean. Scales covered their bodies and shimmered with every movement.

_The boy is totally a Career. The girl looks like she's lost her marbles, but who knows. She is from District Four and she's in shape… They'll both fit in nicely, _thought Crash.

_That is if they don't kill each other first, _he noted as an afterthought, as he observed their hostile positions toward each other.

With each entrance of tributes, Crash categorized them. From District Five there were the beanpole boy, and the pixie-like girl. District Six offered a strong, panther-like girl, and a boy who kept picking at a piece of ivy wrapped around his wrist. Then came a graceful, elfish girl and a boy who seemed trapped in his own head. From District Eight were the siblings. District Nine provided a determined girl and Mr. Happy. District Ten was the most interesting for Crash. Devious, the boy smirked at Crash once he entered the room. The girl was totally nonchalant but emitted an underlying aura of hostility. Ten were definitely the district to look out for, in Crash's opinion. Only the girl from District Eleven held a threat. The boy was a complete crybaby. Finally, District Twelve's tributes were a gothic girl and average Joe.

Satisfied with his assessment of the other tributes, Crash took his position on the chariot with Collteen. A moment later, everyone was in position. Leeveth and Rena popped in to make sure everything looked perfect. Soon they heard a loud announcer bellow,

"I present, the tributes of District One!" Their snow-white horses began to move, and soon Collteen and Crash were seen by all of the Capitol. The lights were blinding, and flashes went off from all sides. The crowd roared and clapped. District One was always the favorite, as it should be. Collteen was blowing kisses and waving flirtatiously at the crowds. Crash had his arms crossed and head held high. During the entire ride Collteen's song was playing.

_If you ain't got no money take your broke ass home_

_You say: If you ain't got no money take your broke ass home_

_G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, yeah G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S_

_We flying the first class_

_Up in the sky_

_Poppin' champagne_

_Livin' the life_

_In the fast lane_

_And I won't change_

_By the Glamorous, oh the flossy, flossy_

_The glamorous,_

_The glamorous, glamorous (the glamorous life)_

_By the Glamorous, oh the flossy, flossy_

_Wear them gold and diamonds rings_

_All them things don't mean a thing_

_Chaperons and limousines_

_Shopping for expensive things…_

The song continued on, but it was more background noise than anything significant. At the end of the song, the announcer introduced District Two. Neither Crash nor Collteen paid much attention to the other tributes. They continued waving until they reached the City Circle, and there they waited for another twenty minutes or so until all the songs had ended. Once all the chariots had come to a stop in front of his mansion, President Snow rose and gave the traditional welcome speech. All twelve chariots paraded around the City Circle one last time before they vanished into the Training Center.

The prep teams converged on Collteen and Crash, telling them how great they did. The only thing Collteen wanted them to do was shut up. She hated people who spoke in high, squeaky voices, and that's all these people seemed to do. She plastered on a false smile until the prep teams said goodbye. Then they finally saw one of their mentors. Dary was there, smiling slightly as she gave them her congratulations. She apologized to them that Rodrigo wasn't there. It turned out he had a massive hangover, and the last thing she heard from him was that he didn't care what anyone did as long as they didn't bother him.

They got into the glass elevator with Leeveth, Rena, and Dary and sped up to their floor. Collteen was exhausted and gratefully collapsed on her silk sheets. She fell into a deep sleep, and she snapped at the Avox who came to try and get her to change into pajamas.

The next day was the day that the tributes would get to train. Crash was very excited.

_Well let's see what they've got, _he thought before drifting off to sleep.

**Cleota Vale (15), Kelson Ellmont (15), District Two –**

Cleota was utterly shocked when she was reaped. She plastered on an indifferent face but inside was flipping out.

_How am I supposed to T.P. Mrs. Pruitt's house now?! Jeez, and the old hag really had it coming too…_ she thought. After the initial disappointment wore off, she began to think more critically. Though she may not seem it, Cleota could be a very serious person. She knew she could die in these Games. But she also knew she could _win_. Hell, she lived in District Two! She was more than prepared.

The visiting time with her family and friends passed quickly. Tears of worry rolled down the face of her mother. Her friends looked sad to see her go. But that didn't stop them from giving her _lots_ of pranking supplies. They insisted that it was a great opportunity – when else will she ever get to be in the Capitol? After one last hug, her mother was escorted out, and she was hurried to the train.

It was bigger than any of the other locomotives at the station, and easily the most luxurious. Even the steps leading into the train were padded with soft, red velvet. Inside there was a small foyer with an attendant who offered to take her coat. She laughed goofily at his accent and continued down the hall of the train. The next area she came into held a sort of sitting room. There, lounging on a plush couch was the other District Two tribute.

He winked suggestively at her when she entered. She rolled her eyes and sat down in a black leather armchair, toying with her charm bracelet that she took as her token. It held the first letters of family and friends, along with small matching birthstones. The chain was made of leather links and the charms were carved out of black oak. She fingered her own charm, running her thumb over the small silver _C_ the amethyst underneath it. She then heard someone clear his throat.

The boy was sitting up now and was looking at her with slight frustration. It seemed as if he had never gone so long without attention. She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Kelson," he said, flashing perfectly white teeth.

"Very nice," Cleota replied shortly. She resumed playing with the charms. Kelson was getting steadily more frustrated. This started as a great day. He was on TV and got to grace all of Panem with his stunningly good looks. Then he was given all sorts of things from family and such, and got to see them cry over him leaving. Finally, toting numerous sweets and candies, he was escorted into a train that seemed to have the most and the best of everything. He was in a very good mood until the girl came in.

He had seen her around, but had no idea who she was. But he decided to get on good terms with her from the beginning. And the best part was that she wasn't half bad to look at. So of course, he winked at her.

_And now she falls for me, _he thought expectantly. Instead the girl has the audacity to roll her eyes and ignore him. Talk about rude. Then she just fiddled with her stupid bracelet, and didn't even ask for his name! And when he introduced himself all he got is "very nice?" What's the deal with that?!

Lost in his thoughts, Kelson didn't notice what Cleota was doing now. She had sat down next to him and lightly tapped his shoulder. He whirled to see her hovering right next to his shoulder.

"Your name is very nice and all, but what I _really_ want to know…" Her voice had lowered to a whisper, and she put her hands on his chest. He didn't even know when he had laid on his back.

"… is how good a kisser you are," she finished. Her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks as she leaned in towards his lips. Kelson smiled smugly, he always got the girl. He closed his eyes and was almost kissing her when he heard laughter.

The girl had doubled over in hysterics. Tears were streaming down her face, she was laughing so hard. She then fell off the couch and continued chuckling on the floor. When she finally caught her breath she jumped and yelled:

"Gotcha'! You should've seen the look on your face!" Another round of giggles burst from her as she looked at Kelson's confused expression.

"Hey guys, what's going on here?" The voice came from the doorway. Standing there at about 6'2" was one of their mentors, Robert Fletcher. He was leaning against the doorframe with a bemused expression. He looked about twenty-four years old. His almost fluffy-looking blond hair fell into his face.

"Oh nothing! Just getting to know each other," Cleota said innocently. Robert raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that. I was watching that entire episode. Stop teasing the poor kid, even though he might have deserved it," he said, sitting down on an armchair. Kelson couldn't believe it. First a girl plays him like a fool and now their mentor is taking sides? This just wasn't his day.

"No can do 'Bert. It's what I'm best at!" Cleota smiled like the devil.

"Call me Bobby. Ok, now let's be serious. I know for one thing that you-" he pointed at Cleota.

"-are prepared for the Games. And I'm assuming that you are too, because you volunteered so quickly," he finished, looking at Kelson.

"Well you're right that _I_ am. But I'm not so sure about Pretty-Boy here. He's a little too gullible," Cleota pointed out. Kelson scowled.

"I'll have you know, that I'm more than ready for these Games," he shot back angrily. He knew it was a total lie, but he did not want to be shown up by this girl again.

"Ok, ok, chill, People. First of all, what are your strengths? Weaknesses? Anything we can build on would be fantastic," Bobby interrupted, sensing a fight.

"No offense or anything, but I don't want to share that information at the moment. It's not you I don't trust, Bobby. It's him," Cleota gestured to Kelson. Before Kelson could spit out another comment, Cleota stood to leave.

"See ya 'round, People. By the way, the name's Cleota," Without another word she left the two. Cleota continued down the hall, seeing what there was to see. There was a room whose door read "_Entertainment Center"_ in elegant script. It was filled with all sorts of buttons, switches and screens. She picked up a remote and clicked the "On" button. The screens lit up and options from watching movies to ordering food were laid out in rows across the paper-thin television screen. Cleota gleefully plopped down into a voluminous, overstuffed beanbag.

_This is going to be fun_, she thought, as she decided to play a game called Super Mario Bros. After hours of virtual reality and junk food, Cleota grew tired of the Entertainment Center. She checked one of the digital clocks.

_Hmm. Only 5 o'clock. I probably have another one to two hours to burn. I wonder what Kelson's doing…_ Cleota mused as she made her way back to the sitting room. Kelson was sprawled across the couch, fast asleep. A sport commenter was droning on the TV screen. Cleota grinned mischievously. It seemed it was time that her new pranking supplies would come in handy.

Kelson woke up to a squeaky voice over the intercom calling everyone to dinner. He got up and stretched. As he turned to go to the dining room, he saw his reflection. And screamed in horror. Drawn on his face in black marker, was a handle-bar mustache complemented with drawn on glasses. He gaped, and anger flooded through him. _No one_ messed with his looks.

He stormed into the dining room receiving shocked looks from the two mentors and Capitol attendants. Even the Avox's eyes widened a little. Cleota burst out laughing and fell out of her chair. Jeez, that girl loved laughing on the floor. But her laughter set off the entire room and soon everyone was clutching their sides.

"WHO DID THIS?! YOU KNOW WHAT?! I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO ASK DO I?! I KNOW IT WAS YOU!!!!!" Kelson roared, pointing at Cleota.

"Why yes. Yes it was," she replied, suddenly very composed.

"WELL?! WHY'D YOU DO IT?!" he yelled at her. Kelson was pretty sure that if steam could come out of his ears, it would have.

"It's funny!" she said, her face splitting into a grin.

"IT IS NOT!" _The nerve of that girl!_ He thought.

"Of course it is! See they're laughing. I'm laughing. Now why do we laugh? Because something's funny! Honestly, it's not that hard to understand. You needed it anyway. Seriously. I'm surprised your big head can get through the door! You got to trim that ego. Or even better, chop it in half!" She replied. Then she started on her roast pork without another look at Kelson.

Still fuming, but out of energy for the moment, Kelson gave up. He looked for the nearest bathroom and scrubbed. It came off easily, but he still didn't forgive her. At least now he knew to sleep with one eye open.

Cleota watched Kelson reenter the room, his face slightly pink from washing off the marker. She was glad that she didn't use permanent marker. God knows how he'd react if he couldn't wash it off. Every time he caught her eye she smirked. Then he'd glare.

_Ah Cleota, making friends wherever you go!_ She thought. She had briefly wondered whether or not she should make an ally of Kelson. She quickly decided that she wouldn't try and make him a total enemy but being allies just wouldn't work so well. He didn't seem the type to survive – he was the kind of guy who mooches off your stuff for a while and then leaves without giving you anything in return.

The meal passed quickly, and Cleota grew bored once again. She plopped down in the living room area and started looking through the shelves. Nestled in a corner was a smooth, rectangular object. It was bright pink and had a silver apple on the back. Hanging from the end of it were white ear-buds. On the front was a white ring, with a pink circle in the middle. Small symbols were on the ring that Cleota knew meant, play, pause, fast-forward, and rewind. One side of the ring didn't have a symbol at all, just "Menu".

Curious, Cleota pressed and held all the buttons, finally finding luck when she held down the play/pause symbol. The screen above the white ring lit up, the same apple figure in the center. Then it lit up again, this time showing a list of options. She played with the I-pod for hours, listening to all sorts of music. Her favorite song was titled "Boom Boom Pow". It was super catchy and she kept it on loop for a while. Suddenly the train jolted to a stop. She hadn't even noticed it was slowing down. She slipped the I-Pod into her pocket and looked out the window.

Although it was very dark outside, the Capitol was shining brightly. All different colored lights reflected off of the glass and chrome surfaces. People were dressed in the most ridiculous outfits. A woman walked by with neon yellow hair and a sharp-looking nose. She wore a dress that looked like it was made entirely of yellow feathers. Cleota couldn't help but compare her to a canary.

"Hey, Cleota!" Cleota turned around to see a tan-skinned woman with extremely curly brown hair.

"Just so you know, I'm going to be your mentor along with Bobby. My name's Sasha!" Sasha beamed. Still comparing people to animals, Cleota compared Sasha to a poodle. Her hair matched and her personality was just… bubbly!

"Awesome! I want you to know that I'm really happy to have you guys as my mentors. It really seems that I lucked out!" Cleota complemented.

"Awww! Thanks so much! This year District Two's going to win!" Sasha pulled Cleota into a hug.

Suddenly an attendant tapped both of them on the shoulder and gestured to the exit of the train. Cleota stepped outside to only be thrown into the backseat of a car with Kelson. The whole car ride her eyes were glued on the spectacles outside the window. Kelson was looking out the window as well. However, instead of looking around, he was winking and smiling at every girl they passed. In only five minutes, they had pulled to a stop in front of a building marked, "Training Center" in sparkling font. They were rushed into a glass elevator, which sped up almost instantaneously. It slowed to a stop at the 102 floor and they stepped out to be greeted with a shining silver "2" on the wall.

Kelson rubbed his eyes and mumbled something about going to sleep, and staggered into his room. Bobby and Sasha stepped out of the elevator chatting away.

"Cleo! Hey, where's Kelson?" Inquired Sasha.

"I think he said something about going to sleep. All I know is that he staggered into his room like a zombie." Cleota pointed to the room with her thumb.

"Perfect. Unless you're tired, we can discuss strategy." Bobby said. He pulled out a pen and paper and walked into a dining room, Sasha and Cleota following.

"Okay. Give me strengths, weaknesses, anything really." Bobby began. Cleota jumped onto a sofa and thought.

"Let's see. I'm good with axes and I'm very fast. I do fairly well with most weapons though, considering I've been trained for this. A weak point is that I'm not so much of a natural fighter. I think a lot about what I'm going to do which slows me down. But that might change if I'm fighting for my life…" Cleota said, frowning a bit.

"Oh yeah! I'm also terrified of spiders." Cleota added, shuddering. Bobby was scribbling away on his notepad.

"Well, it's sounds as if this will all be pretty easy for you… Just a couple questions." Bobby began, before Sasha cut in.

"Do you want to ally with the District one and District four tributes? Tradition usually groups a "Career Pack" together." Sasha asked seriously. Cleota thought it over. Technically, she _was_ a Career. But did she want to be part of the pack? Hunting down other tributes until they started attacking each other? In all honesty, Cleota didn't think of herself as a Career. She didn't want to be a Career. But it _was_ a one-time opportunity. Maybe she should, maybe she shouldn't. She finally came to a conclusion.

"You know, I think I'll make this decision once I see who the other Careers actually are. One should never jump into something without having as much information as possible." Cleota replied.

"Very wise. Okay! Onto other business." Sasha regained her bounciness. For the next hour or so, Bobby and Sasha walked her through all that was going to happen in the next couple days. First, she would go meet her stylist, who would figure out her outfit for the Opening Ceremony. Second, she would start training with the other tributes. Finally there were the interviews.

"My advice for the training would be to try everything. You never know what could be useful." Bobby recommended.

"Oh and we need to figure out what personality you'll use for the interviews." Sasha pointed out. And so it went on until Cleota's eyelids were heavy. Finally Bobby noticed the time.

"Jeez, we've been at this for _way_ to long. Let's get some sleep." Bobby yawned.

"Wait! One last thing. We need a song to play for your ride on the chariot. Got anything in mind?" Sasha asked. Cleota felt the shape of the I-pod in her pocket.

"Yeah I've got an idea." Cleota smiled.

Yet again, Cleota was astounded with the luxurious surroundings. She entered her bedroom as if it were a surreal landscape. She collapsed onto her king-sized bed with a sigh. As serious and life threatening the Games were, you had to admit the Capitol had style.

"Cleo!" A loud an insistent voice pierced Cleota's wonderful dream. She mustered up the strength to drag one eye open to see Sasha right in her face. Cleota jumped up with a yell, and Sasha laughed.

"Get up, sleepy head! Here's a towel. Go take a shower and then come down for breakfast. You've got a big day ahead of you." Sasha shoved a fluffy white towel into Cleota's hands and practically skipped out the door. Where Sasha found all that energy, she would never know.

Groggily, Cleota pushed open a door to her bathroom. That definitely woke her up. Once she stepped into the room it automatically lit up, shedding light on the magnificent bathroom. It was huge. A calming blue was painted onto the walls and the floor was made up of white tile. The shower was large and was built so that the water came out of a special panel in the ceiling, making it feel like rain. The bathtub was a wading pool, and had Jacuzzi jets in its sides.

Cleota shed her clothes, and stepped into the shower. Buttons were lined up on one wall. All were different colors, and had small words underneath. In the three columns for soap Cleota found one labeled "Vanilla" and pushed it. A small drawer in the shower wall popped out with a bar of white soap. Then she hit another button for shampoo and got one that smelled of strawberries.

When Cleota emerged from the shower she had never felt better. Once she stepped onto the shower mat, warm air came at her from all directions and she was suddenly dry.

Back in her room, Cleota went through the drawers and found all sorts of tops and pants. She chose a dark red shirt, and black pants made of a tough material. She then clasped a gray leather belt around her waist. Finally she wrapped her charm bracelet back onto her wrist, and walked into the dining room. There was a feast laid out on a buffet table against one of the walls, and Bobby was already at the table digging into the food.

"Hufm." He mumbled around a mouthful of food.

"Good morning to you too, Bobby." Cleota said, before turning to the food. She eagerly filled her plate with pancakes, omelets, muffins, pretty much everything she could fit. Almost as soon as she sat down, Kelson walked in, yawning.

"Good morning!" Cleota yelled. Kelson's face screwed up at the unwanted noise.

"Do you _have_ to be so loud?" He managed to croak out.

"YES!" Cleota shouted even louder. Kelson groaned and gave up. He just wanted to get through the day in one piece.

"Wow, he really isn't a morning person. Do you know how long it took me to wake him up? I practically had to jump on him to get him up!" Sasha said, following Kelson into the dining room.

"Now, now, Sasha control yourself. As great looking as he is, he's a little young for you." Bobby teased.

"Oh, stop it. You know what I meant!" Sasha punched him in the shoulder.

"Aren't you going to eat, Sasha?" Cleota asked. The food was truly heavenly.

"Nah, I ate hours ago. I don't understand how you guys sleep in so long!" She was bouncing off the walls at this point.

"You do realize that it's only eight a.m. right?" Bobby said, shoving his watch in Sasha's face. She pushed his arm away.

"Anyways, eat up! We've got to get you two to your stylists!" Barely minutes later, Sasha had rushed everyone into the elevator and out the door of the Training Center.

Once again, Cleota couldn't help but marvel at the sights of the Capitol. The people, the sounds, even the _smells_ were totally new. Sasha and Bobby left them in the hands of their prep teams before setting off to do who-knows-what.

Kelson's prep team barely had any work to do, or so they told him. They kept commenting how perfect he was, and they spent quite a time flattering each other. But after half an hour, they left him alone to face his stylist.

She banged through the door, her dark cape billowing out behind her. Her light gray shirt and pants were made of the same silky material and it looked like it floated on her body. Her black hair was windswept and had been dyed bright yellow on the tips. When he locked eyes with her, he was met with an electric yellow. She was a thunderstorm.

"Hey, I'm Kel-" Kelson began but she quickly cut him off.

"Shut up. Listen well. This is my job. I am right, you are wrong. You do what I tell you, no complaints. Understand?" She barked out, like a drill sergeant.

"Yes sir! I mean ma'am!" Kelson babbled. The woman smiled.

"Good. I am your stylist, Aella." She snapped her finger and Kelson flinched.

"Let's get started." She said. After hours of different fabrics and a whirlwind of pins and needles sticking into his sides, Kelson's outfit was complete. He admired himself in the full-length mirror. His doctor's coat fit his form perfectly, making his shoulder's look broader and emphasizing his physique. The light blue button down was tastefully cut and the upper buttons were left undone. His hair was lightly spiked with gel. He looked like he just stepped out of a hospital for super models.

"Done. You may leave now." Aella's voice showed her pride. Secretly, she liked Kelson. At first she thought he was going to be a self-centered jerk, but she admired his confidence… although his ego could stand to be smaller. She helped Kelson out of his outfit, and he changed back into casual clothes. He wondered how Cleota was doing with her stylist.

Cleota was doing awesome. When she first met her prep team she did have her doubts. They all talked about themselves, and how much of a tragedy it was that they chipped a nail. Cleota could only nod and bite back yells of pain as they ripped the hair off her legs. Finally they had finished and they left her alone in the room.

Nearly seconds later a brightly colored figure waltzed into the room. Literally, the man was _dancing_. Cleota watched him, very confused. Suddenly he spun around and locked eyes with Cleota.

"Hiya! I'm Rawr and I'll be your stylist!" He said, grinning. Cleota chuckled a little.

"Rawr? Is that really your name?" Cleota asked.

"Well yes and no. I was born with the name Shane. But I changed it. Really, _Shane?_ Give me a break. Rawr is awesome-er," he said very quickly. It seemed as if he always talked this way.

Cleota took a moment to look at his hair. He had a huge mohawk that was colored in a rainbow, red in the front all the way to purple in the back. She looked back to his face. He was pale with misty gray eyes, but his "Hello friend!" expression made her smile.

"I see. Well I'm Cleota! Nice to meet you." She shook his hand. And received an electric shock.

Rawr was smirking. He held up the hand to show a small button that was taped to his palm, no doubt it was the source of the shock. Cleota nodded appreciatively.

"Like pranks I see? Well you have started a war, my friend!" Cleota smiled evilly.

"Sure, sure, but let's wait until I've got something for you to wear tomorrow!" This last bit, Rawr sang. Cleota was liking her stylist more and more. She liked his smile, his crazy thoughts, his pranking… she even loved his tiny attention span.

When Sasha and Bobby came to take them back to the Training Center, Sasha asked them how it all went. Kelson nodded enthusiastically, and Cleota yelled "Woohoo!". The rest of the day was spent comfortably, playing cards, making good use of the pool table, and discussing personalities for their interviews. It was perhaps one of the happiest days of Cleota's life… who would've thought?

The next day followed the same morning routine. First Sasha woke them up, they took showers, ate breakfast, and then were sent off to the Remake Center. By 5 o' clock their stylists had finished. When Kelson and Cleota met up with each other they couldn't help but marvel at the other's appearance. Kelson looked better than ever, and Cleota was stunning.

Her silky black hair was pulled up in a high curled ponytail, and her make-up accented her green eyes beautifully. The outfit she wore was mostly silver and white. The pleated skirt she wore ended just above her knees, and was embroidered with silver thread. The silver made swirling patterns across the fabric and shined in the light. The blouse was also white with silver buttons, it was done up halfway, and the silk camisole underneath sparkled. A red cross was on the breast pocket of the blouse. Her sleeves were rolled up neatly to her elbows and her nails were painted silver. Finally, Cleota wore a silvery headband with another small red cross made of rubies. She looked beautiful.

They rode the elevator down to the bottom floor of the Remake Center. When they stepped out they were greeted with the sight of twelve different chariots and dozens of different colored horses. They both stood beside two cream-colored horses and a red chariot marked with a "2".

Kelson was busy looking at the chariot. Okay, maybe not so much at the chariot than his reflection. He smoothed his hair here and there and practiced a smile. Damn, he looked _good_.

The other tributes slowly trickled in, throwing glances at everyone who was already in the room. Cleota stood next to the horses and rubbed one's nose. She watched as tributes came in, some big, some small, but most were average and lanky. One boy came in with long reddish brown hair. He smiled shyly when he saw her looking at him. Cleota smiled back and waved. Then the girl walking next to him tugged his arm toward their chariot, and threw Cleota a look of suspicion.

Meanwhile Kelson was meeting the eye of every girl that came into the room. One glared at him from the moment she noticed him. Her short, wispy, black hair was riddled with red streaks. She was wearing a lab coat, and was covered in greenish glitter. Glasses sat slightly crooked on the bridge of her nose, and a long thin scar ran down her face. But what caught Kelson's attention most of all were her eyes. One blue. One topaz. And they were both glowering at him.

Suddenly she looked away and lightly tugged the boy next to her towards their chariot, and glared at Cleota. She turned to the boy and began, what seemed like, whisper screaming at the boy. He just shrugged and walked towards the bathroom. Kelson turned to look at Cleota to find that she had followed the boy. So, being who he was, Kelson walked up to talk to the girl.

"What do you want?" She snapped. Kelson leaned up against her chariot.

"Just wanted to say hello. Be friendly and all…" Kelson said, smirking.

"Well, can you do me a favor and go be friendly somewhere else? In case you haven't noticed the Opening Ceremonies are going to begin soon." She sneered.

_Jeez. Hostile much?_ Thought Kelson. But still, he though he could change that.

"Sorry. No can do. I'm Kelson by the way. May I say that you look beautiful today?" Kelson complemented. The girl's eyes narrowed.

"I don't want you're flattery. Just leave." She said.

"Nah, I think I'll stay here." Kelson had the nerve to sit down on the District Six chariot. The girl looked even angrier.

"Seriously? Get you're conceited ass out of here before I kick it out!" She yelled. Her fists were clenched at her sides and she looked like she wanted to beat him up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I go to the bathroom for five minutes and this is what happens?" The District Six boy had returned with Cleota right behind him. He too wore a lab coat and the green glitter, but he had goggles pushed up on his forehead.

"This moron will not leave. I was about to remove him by force before you came." The girl ground out. The boy looked at Kelson and raised an eyebrow.

"It only took five minutes for him to get you this pissed off? Dude, congratulations, I think this is a new record." The boy went to shake Kelson's hand but the girl slapped it away.

"Hey, no need to get in a fight. I'm Cleota. It's nice to meet you!" Cleota smiled at the girl. She looked surprised, and distrustful but returned the greeting.

"Natalaia. Well it's been fun, but it looks as if we're about to start." Natalaia pointed to the tributes taking their places on their chariots.

"Well, good luck!" Cleota high fived the boy before leaving. Kelson followed her, but not before winking at Natalaia. She swore at him a couple times before he was too far to hear her.

Cleota skipped up onto the chariot. She was really happy that she had talked to Jacinth. He was really sweet, and could definitely be a valuable ally. Plus, he was fun to hang around with! Although, she did secretly hope that Natalaia would warm up a bit. She was kind of a downer. But that may have been partly due to Kelson. That's when she heard Kelson walking up. Quite a ways behind him Natalaia was shaking her fist at him

Kelson reached the chariot right before the Opening Ceremony began. Bobby and Sasha were already there, accompanied by Aella and a guy with a rainbow mohawk, who Kelson assumed to be Cleota's stylist. He grinned and gave them both thumbs up. Kelson chuckled a bit at his choice of wardrobe. His black t-shirt had "District Two! WOOT!" in bright pink letters that matched his neon pink converses.

"Okay guys, this is it! You make your first impression on the Capitol in seconds. Are you ready?" Sasha was grinning like a maniac. They both nodded. Suddenly a voice announced District One and the line started moving. Their horses were now waiting right next to the door.

Cleota's heart was pounding. After about two or three minutes, District One's music faded, and the booming voice announced-

"And now! The tributes of District Two!" A loud cheer erupted from the crowd as Cleota and Kelson were revealed to the public. Then her song started.

_Gotta get-get, gotta get-get_

_Gotta get-get, gotta g-g-g-get-get-get, get-get_

_Boom, boom, boom, gotta get-get_

_Boom, boom, boom, gotta get-get_

_Boom, boom, boom, gotta get-get_

_Boom, boom, boom, gotta get-get_

Cleota waved and smiled at the crowd. She even pulled a Kelson and winked at a couple people. She mouthed "District Two" and held up two fingers.

_Yo I got that hit that beat the block_

_You can get that bass overload_

_I got that rock and roll_

_That future flow_

Suddenly Cleota got an idea. She started singing along with the song and dancing. She waved at the crowd who started dancing along too. Kelson was impressed. It was a good idea; they would definitely be remembered now.

_People in the place_

_If you wanna get down_

_Put your hands in the air_

_Will. I. Am. drop the beat now_

_Yup, yup_

_I be rockin' them beats, yup, yup_

_I be rockin' them beats, y-y-yup, yup_

_Here we go, here we go, satellite radio_

_Ya'll getting' hit with the boom, boom…_

Fifteen seconds later, their song faded away and the crowd gave a final cheer for District Two. Another song started up as District Three's chariot appeared.

Cleota smiled and waved at the people as they continued on their way to the City Circle. She looked back a couple times to watch the other tributes. She was very impressed with District Three's performance. She beamed when Jacinth's chariot rolled out.

By the time District twelve's song had faded, the sun had set and President Snow gave a speech. Kelson cringed inwardly at President Snow's appearance.

_Really. You'd think being the President would give you reason to look good. But this guy looks like he just stepped out of a coffin to come suck your blood._ He thought with disgust.

Before they knew it, their cream-colored horses had set off for the Training Center. Cleota and Kelson gave a few last waves and smiles before they disappeared from view.

They felt Sasha way before they saw her. Once they entered the Training Center garage, she had attacked them with a big hug.

"You guys were great! They loved you!" She yelled with glee.

"Can't… Breathe…." Cleota gasped. Kelson didn't say anything, but he did manage to mouth, "Help me" in Bobby's direction.

Sasha pulled away, and Cleota and Kelson could breathe again. Aella was nodding in approval. And Rawr was jumping up and down with Cleota.

That night, they all sat around the television and watched the replays of the Chariot ride. Kelson was impressed when the District Six chariot appeared. It seemed as if their stylist had placed dry ice machines in the floor of the chariot, or maybe even in their white boots. Natalaia's black hair was swept by a sudden gust of wind and her mismatched eyes glinted in the lights. She looked invincible, but his attention was constantly drawn back to the scar, reminding him that she too had an Achilles heel.

Cleota felt great. She had made a great impression for the Opening Ceremonies, hopefully gained an ally, and made some friends. So far, the Hunger Games didn't seem so bad. So, clutching a mug of hot chocolate she drifted off to sleep surrounded by Bobby, Sasha, Aella, Rawr, and Kelson.

**Micra Platel (15), Jack … (16), District 3 –**

After the Reapings, Micra was visited by her parents, two brothers, and of course, her best friend Aaron. Her father's eyes shone with unshed tears as he gathered her up into a hug.

"Please, promise to come back," he said. He brushed away tears that were rolling down Micra's face.

"I will. I promise I will," Micra choked out. She buried her head in her father's shoulder one last time before he was escorted out. Next to come in was her mother. She was carrying a small metal chain with a small bronze jackrabbit hanging from it. Without saying a word she bent down and clasped it around Micra's ankle.

"Where it into battle proudly, Micra. It's been in the family for generations and it will bring you luck. You'll come back. I know it," Micra returned her mother's smile with a small one of her own. She hugged her as tightly as she could before her arms threatened to fall off. Her mother wished her luck once more before leaving.

Next to come in were her brothers. First was her older brother Victor. His face was screwed up in agony and for the whole time he was there, he couldn't bare to let her go. In fact after half an hour of sobbing in each other's arms an attendant had to come and pull him away. Victor shouted an "I love you, baby sis!" before the door slammed shut. Micra had barely any time to compose herself before her younger brother entered.

Timothy took small steps into the grand room and looked at Micra curiously. His wide four-year-old eyes looked around in amazement.

"You get to stay _here_?" he asked in wonder. Timothy was still too small to really understand what the Hunger Games were all about. Micra let out a sad little chuckle.

"No, Timmy. I'm going somewhere else after this. I'll be gone for a while," Micra helped him up to sit on the plush couch.

"You're leaving?" He looked up at Micra with dismay. She quickly hugged him and kissed him on the forehead.

"I am. But don't worry. I'll be back soon enough. And when I do come back we'll get to live in those mansions we pass on our way to the market," she comforted. Timmy's eyes lit up.

"Really?! And we get to live like this?" He gestured to the room they were in. Micra nodded and hugged him closer again. Her heart clenched when she saw his small frame disappear behind the solid oak doors.

But her spirits were slightly lifted when Aaron came through the door. He gave a half-hearted smile before sitting down with her.

"Hey… so, how's it going?" he asked tentatively.

"Ok, I guess. I think I'm still in shock," Micra said. Suddenly, Aaron took her face in his hands and kissed her. Micra was surprised at her best friend's actions but very happy. She kissed him back, and it felt all too soon when he pulled away. His eyes were shining, half with joy, half with despair.

"I just want you to know that I love you. I'm hoping to God that it will be enough to bring you back from the Games alive," Aaron whispered, his eyes locking with hers. Micra smiled.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," she replied before kissing him again. But then, the Capitol ruined the happiest moment of her life. The attendant had gone from his post at the door to dragging Aaron away.

"I love you!" Aaron yelled to her right before the door shut. Minutes later, Micra found herself being lead to the train.

She was pushed up into the locomotive and it almost immediately started. Micra hesitantly stepped into the next room of the train. It was a sitting area much like the one she had just been lead out of. But this room was not empty.

Sitting stiffly in a chair at the far end of the room, was a boy. His face was like a concrete wall – no emotion whatsoever. But his yellow eyes followed her as she sat down on one of the couches. He was tall, thin, pale, and looked very unfriendly. But Micra would try anyway.

"Hi. I'm Micra. What's your name?" she asked.

"Jack," he mumbled back.

"Nice to meet you. So, you volunteered for the games? I guess you've got some sort of plan then… that's good…" Micra trailed off. Jack gave no response. Micra fidgeted in the awkward silence.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around then," she made a hasty exit into the hallway of the train. Jack sat in the room, alone once more. And so he set to planning.

The next room Micra entered was much brighter than the last. Or maybe the lighting was the same, and the absence of Jack gave her a much lighter mood. Nevertheless, the room was perfect. Micra wandered to the walls filled with books. Fantasy, Mystery, Biographies… Micra loved it all. She found her way to the nature books, and pulled out all the one's concerning extreme terrains.

_Might as well know what I'm up against._ Micra thought with a new determination.

For hours on end, she leafed her way through the books noting interesting and dangerous plants and animals. By the time the dinner bell rang, Micra knew all there was to know about deserts, rainforests, and the icy tundra. As she moved to open the door she thought she saw a flash of yellow to he right. She whirled around to see... a wall. Micra rubbed her arms to fend off the chill that was creeping up her spine. She could've sworn she had seen something.

Dinner was fabulous, but was slightly uncomfortable due to Jack. He said nothing, just silently stabbed food with his fork. Micra couldn't help but feel a sort of emptiness radiating from him.

At dinner, the mentors introduced themselves. The man, Alden, looked to be in his late thirties, and bags hung under his eyes. He seemed ok, but every time Micra looked at him she thought he was tired with the whole business. But he was the most experienced with training tributes so he was stuck with the job every year.

The woman mentor was famously known as "Wildfire" in District Three, and was quite a sight. Her naturally red hair was dyed with streaks of orange and yellow halfway down. Her tawny eyes glinted mischievously and she was the craziest mentor in the Games. Her real name was Serefina Kincade. She had won the 43rd Games, and was known for her fiery finish. She had stabbed the other contestant in the heart with a shard of glass whilst a forest fire roared behind her. The last of the footage for those Games contained seventeen-year-old Serefina cackling towards the sky, her hair wild and tangled… hence the nickname.

For the majority of the meal, Micra was listening to Wildfire sing eerie tunes with an insane look on her face. Micra shot a questioning look towards Alden, who was massaging his temples with his fingertips. He shrugged and gave Micra a look that said, "What am _I_ supposed to do?"

Finally, the dessert was cleared away and Micra could leave. She was falling into even deeper despair. Her mentors were either raving mad, or exhausted. And as for Jack… she didn't even know where he came from. The first time she had ever seen him was at the Reaping. He didn't speak, didn't do anything, and probably didn't feel any emotion at all, in Micra's opinion.

_It's almost as if he's dead inside,_ Micra thought. She shivered involuntarily.

Jack was certainly not dead. But was he alive? That was a different question. He had boarded the train without a word to anyone. He must plan. He must know what to do. To enter the battle unprepared was unethical. That was one thing Jack was not. Cold and calculating, Jack thought of the Gamemakers. Anything and everything came from them. He put himself in their shoes.

_Now what would be the most inhumane, cruel, and terrifyingly creative things I would do to the contestants…_ he mused. But his thoughts were interrupted when a girl stepped into the room. Her tear-stained face looked surprised to see him. She sat down on a couch. Jack watched.

"Hi. I'm Micra. What's your name?" she asked.

"Jack," he murmured. Micra continued speaking but Jack pushed the annoying sounds out of his mind. At some point he looked up to see that Micra had gone. Jack stood and strode through the hallway, keeping in the comfortable shadows. He entered the first room he came too. It was a library. And Micra was sitting in an armchair staring intently at the page of a book. Jack lurked in the darkness where the lights did not reach, and watched. Micra flipped through pages, determination shaping her expression. He watched as she brushed hair out of her face, and how she had a habit of biting her nails. But mostly, he looked into her eyes. He saw determination, passion, and grief. All things of which he did not understand. But still, knowledge is gained from observation, and he must know as much as possible.

Suddenly, Micra snapped a book shut at the sound of the dinner bell. She stood and stretched, before walking towards the door. Just as she passed him she froze the tiniest bit. Jack took this as his cue, and, faster than imaginable, he disappeared from view. Micra spun around just a second later. She stared in confusion at the wall, and rubbed her arms. She threw one last wary glance around the room before leaving.

Just after the door shut, Jack slipped out from behind the bookcase. It was a tight fit, but he was very thin. He opened the door silently and left for the dining room. During the meal he watched… and watched… and watched. And so, Jack learned.

Micra was directed to her room by a tall boy who only seemed to nod or shake is head in response to Micra's questions. He opened her door before vanishing. Micra's curious thoughts about the boy fled to the back of her mind when she saw the bed. She just wanted to crawl under the fluffy covers and pass out. But she did want to change out of her dirty clothes.

Micra looked in the many drawers and found shorts and a soft nightshirt. She slipped them on and dived under the sheets. She descended into a deep sleep and soon was snoring peacefully.

Jack had found his room as well, although he was not sleeping. After dinner he had returned to the library. Micra was no longer there but he did not care. He wandered among the shelves and found a section for smaller children. He pulled out a book at random and looked at the brightly colored cover. _Mother Goose Poems: For Children of All Ages_ was printed across the face of the book. Along with that, a delicately drawn picture of a goose wearing a bonnet was sitting in the center.

Jack tucked the book under his arm and left the library. He found his way to his room easily enough and sat on the bed. He set the book on his lap and opened it. The pages fell open to a page with, _A Wise Old Owl_ printed across the top of the page. Jack read the poem underneath.

_A wise old owl sat in an oak,_

_The more he heard, the less he spoke;_

_The less he spoke, the more he heard;_

_Why aren't we all like that wise old bird?_

Jack flipped through the book, reading the nursery rhymes. A little spark of happiness came to him as he read the poems aloud. It was strange, but he liked it.

Micra dreamed she was drowning. She was sputtering for air when she woke up. It turned out that she wasn't dreaming about the water at all. When she rubbed her eyes she saw Wildfire standing there with an empty bucket. Micra fought her way out of the soaked sheets and looked at her mentor in shock.

"Rise and shine!" she screeched. She then proceeded to skip out of the room, no doubt to wake up another person in the same manner. Micra pulled up the blinds to see a pale lavender sky. The sun hadn't risen yet. But all around them there were mountains. They stood majestically, their peaks piercing the heavens. Micra made her way to the bathroom and peeled off her soaked pajamas. She stepped into the large glass shower. Buttons were lined up on a shower wall but Micra didn't really care what they were for. She was far too tired to really comprehend anything. She pushed a random button and a light green bar of soaped popped out. She hit a couple more buttons and shampoo and conditioner followed suit.

By the time Micra stepped out of her bathroom, she felt much better. She smelled like limes and coconut. It was different, but nevertheless she liked it. She rifled through the drawers for a bit before opening the closet. Micra gasped. Elegant dresses of every type, color, and length lined the walls of the gigantic closet. Micra was drawn to a dark blue, knee-length dress which had star-like patterns on it. She slipped on the dress and sighed. She had never worn something so nice before. Finally she put on her mother's anklet. She was totally ready for whatever the Capitol could throw at her.

Jack's morning wasn't quite as uplifting. But it wasn't bad either. It wasn't anything, really. It just _was_. When Wildfire opened the door, Jack immediately awakened but he stayed in bed with his eyes closed. When she was just about to douse him with ice water, his foot shot out from under the covers and kicked the bucket out of her hands. It clattered to the floor and soaked the carpet. Wildfire congratulated him before laughing and taking off down the hallway, yelling nonsense words. Jack stepped around the puddle of water and ventured into the bathroom.

He stood in the cascade of water, not moving. He watched as droplets rolled down the glass wall of the shower, creating stripes through the condensation. Finally he stepped out, not even bothering with soap or shampoo. He did not want to smell of the Capitol.

Everyone met in the dinning room at about six-thirty am. The train had gone through a mountain and just entered the Capitol as Micra finished off her blueberry muffin.

The train slowed to a stop, and Wildfire leapt to the door. Once it opened she jumped out into the station and yelled –

"I love the city!"

Everyone followed her out. Micra saw Alden swallow some pills before she was escorted to a cab. The ride was as awkward as it always was when you were alone in a room with Jack. He sat and stared blankly at the seat in front of him. Micra stared at him. He was really tall and looked out of place inside the vehicle. Micra thought of him as a shadow during a sunset – very long and thin, and, of course, _dark_.

The cab screeched to a stop, and Micra stumbled out of the car. Jack glided out gracefully, and strode into the building. Micra barely caught a glance of the sign that said _Remake Center_, before she was shoved in the door after Jack. A woman from the front desk escorted her to a room at a breakneck pace. It didn't seem like the Capitol liked to wait for anything.

Micra's prep team entered within seconds, and suddenly Micra was sitting in a chair. One of the women tilted her head back into a sink and sprayed her hair with warm water, and started massaging some gel-like substance into her hair.

"Hey! Girl, you have such beautiful hair. I tried dying my hair brown once, and it _so_ did not work! Ya know you got to go to the right people! Ya see my hairdresser went all AWOL on me so I stopped by this new guy's salon down the street, and _oh my God_, he was just horrible! He should have his license revoked, I'm telling you!" the woman washing Micra's hair babbled, chewing some sort of bubblegum the entire time.

"BTW, I'm Damisi. BTW means by the way. But you probably know all this tech speak being from District Three and all," Damisi certainly was cheerful. Her dark skin was riddled with tattoos. From angels to wolves, her skin was inked with every sort of image you could think of.

Micra's other prep team members included Neto, the most serious member of the group. He took control of Micra's hands and feet, filing and shining the nails. Then there was Wren, who was on full beauty patrol. Plucking at Micra's eyebrows, rubbing all sorts of lotions all over, and comparing different colors with her skin tone.

"Ok, honey, you are done! Oh my God, you look beautiful! Just you wait for – oops! Almost ruined it. He wants introduce himself in person. Bye! Have fun!" Damisi flitted out the door last, and closed the door. Micra listened to the click of her heels as she walked farther and farther away.

All of a sudden, a man strode into the room. He was all light. He was wearing white denim pants and a pale yellow button down shirt. His blond hair was perfectly tousled, and he smiled brightly at Micra.

"Hey. I'm Luc and I'll be your stylist," he said. Micra smiled back.

_He looks like an angel,_ Micra thought.

The next two hours were pure bliss. Luc combed out her wet hair and snipped away at the edges. Soon, her shoulder-length hair was in beautiful layers. It framed her face perfectly. Then Luc left to go rifle through fabrics. He already had several outfits prepared for her to try out. The first two didn't fit Micra's form, but the third fit wonderfully. The black, skin-tight dress slipped over her easily, and rested above her knees.

"Wow. It feels really nice, but why is it just black?" Micra asked. Luc shook his head.

"You really think I'd send you out there in _just_ a black dress?" he responded, raising an eyebrow. Micra flushed.

"No, this is going to be much better. Wait just a second," Luc ran to the wall and turned off the lights. Micra heard him walk back up to her side.

"Ready?" he whispered. She nodded. She felt Luc touch a spot on her back and suddenly the room lit up. But not from the bright overhead lights. It was coming from the dress.

Iridescent green and blue web like patterns covered the dress. It flicked and light pulsed every few seconds, bathing the room with a bluish glow. It perfectly represented District Three's technological advancement.

"It's… beautiful," Micra choked out.

"No. _You're_ beautiful," Luc smiled at her. Micra giggled and gave him a hug.

"Okay, okay. Let's turn on the lights before someone breaks a leg," Luc found his way to the light switch and the room was bright once again. Micra's dress still looked pretty, but it was much more striking in the dark.

Luc rifled through drawers of accessories, and brought out a tiara adorned with sapphires and emeralds. He placed it on her head and grinned.

"Perfect," he whispered in awe. Micra blushed and stared at her feet. Luc took her face and brought it up and looked her in the eyes.

"Don't be shy. When people see you, stare 'em down with confidence!" Luc said. Micra grinned.

They talked for a little about make-up and such, but it wasn't long before it was time to go. Micra sighed. She really liked hanging out with Luc. He was the first person in the Capitol that she really connected with. Wildfire was insane. Alden was just tiresome. And Jack… well you know.

Micra slipped off the dress, and put on the one she had worn that morning on the train. With one last goodbye to Luc she was whisked out the door into the front lobby. Jack was already waiting.

Jack did not have fun that morning. He despised the prep team. But he cursed his stylist to Hell. It all started with the first sentence.

"OH MY GOD. What are you, a vampire?!" Bonni shouted. Bonni was Jack's stylist. _Bonni_ was the most self-centered, provoking, loathsome person he had ever met.

"Jeez. You're so pale, and just plain _creepy_ looking! Don't worry. I think I can fix you," Jack was only two minutes in, and he was already itching to tear her head off. Although he doubted it would make a difference. She probably didn't have a brain to begin with. But he sucked it up.

Bonni trimmed his hair neatly, and cleaned up his eyebrows a little bit.

"My goodness. Would you look how bushy your eyebrows are! They make you look so angry," Bonni said. Jack clenched his fists.

Finally, she got around to clothing. But before he could try on the first outfit, Bonni's phone rang. She pulled out a small, silver oval and inserted it into her ear.

"Yes? Oh, hey! She does? Awesome. Okay, I'm on it," Bonni said. She took the oval out of her ear and placed it back into her pocket.

"That was Micra's stylist, Luc. She's already found an outfit, so I'll get the matching one for you!" Bonni vanished into the walk-in closet. She reappeared with a sort of black, skin-tight suit. It covered everything except for his hands, feet, and obviously his head. He looked in the mirror, and shot Bonni a look that said, "_Really_? This is _it_?"

She smiled, and clapped her hands. The lights shut off. She then touched a spot between his shoulder blades, and the suit lit up. Webs of blue and green shone from the fabric. Jack was surprised and slightly impressed. He expected less of Bonni. He nodded his approval before taking the outfit off. He quickly changed into his clothes and left for the lobby.

Minutes later he saw Micra come out beaming. They had to wait a couple more minutes, as their mentors hadn't come yet.

"So, how was your stylist?" Micra asked. Jack didn't respond.

"Mine wasn't too bad. He was awesome, actually. Hopefully you had the same luck…" Micra stopped. She clearly wasn't going to get an answer out of him.

"I'm back!" Wildfire sang, as she burst from the door. Micra shuddered. This was going to be a long couple of days.

They were pushed into a cab once again, this time ending up at the Training Center. Inside, they were hustled into a glass elevator. Micra especially liked looking at the glass floor, and seeing the ground grow farther and farther away. The doors opened to reveal a bronze "3".

Micra settled into the living room, and looked out the large windows. The midday sun hung over the gigantic city. Micra looked down into the streets, where blobs of bright colors rushed around. It was beautiful chaos. She heard Alden yawn from the hallway.

"I'm taking a nap. I'll see you all later," Micra listened to his door shut. Wildfire squealed in excitement, and ran over to the stereo. Heavy metal music blasted from the speakers.

Micra clasped her hands over her ears and watching as Wildfire played an air guitar. She stumbled through the hallway looking for her room. She would do anything to put another barrier between her and the noise. Finally she burst into one room. It seemed empty. Micra shut the door. She sat in a chair, and still felt the vibrations of the music. Suddenly she heard something from the bathroom.

"Hickory, dickory, dock! The mouse went up the clock. The clock struck one, the mouse ran down. Hickory dickory dock!"

Micra silently stood and slipped out the door. She realized that it must have been Jack's room. She didn't find it surprising that it looked as if no one had entered. But what drove her into shock was the nursery rhyme echoing from the bathroom. She crept back out of the room, and ran down the hallway.

_That can't have been Jack… It just couldn't have!_ Micra thought. She finally found her way to the room at the end of the hall. This time she checked if anyone was in the bathroom, and was relieved to find that she was alone. She checked her ears. She must have been delusional, because out of all the things that Jack would say it certainly wouldn't be a nursery rhyme… right?

Jack stepped out of the bathroom to find that his privacy had been breached. Someone had been in there. He looked at the door that was opened just a crack. Jack frowned, and reprimanded himself for letting his guard down. He should be paying much more attention to his surroundings. But still, the nursery rhymes were quite fun.

The rest of the day was spent idly. Well, as idly as possible with Wildfire in the building. Micra soon grew bored. She didn't like the numerous modes of technology surrounding her. She'd rather go outside and walk around. But obviously that wasn't going to happen. She settled on toying with the stereo that Wildfire had abused. She absentmindedly flipped through albums, finally resting on one by Evanescence. She listened to the music and doodled in a notebook. Back home, leisure time was sparse and well appreciated. Now, Micra could barely stand it.

The next day couldn't come fast enough. It took Micra hours to calm down and fall asleep. She was woken up yet again by Wildfire. But she had gotten more creative, and instead of pouring water on Micra she hit her in the face with some Jell-O.

Luc was very serious that morning. He seemed to be a perfectionist. Even though the dress was fairly simple, he spent half an hour testing it to make sure it wouldn't malfunction. Then he proceeded to pick at Micra's hair until everything was in its proper place. Finally, he finished. But there was one last thing.

"Micra, you can pick the song you want to play during the Opening Ceremony. Do you have anything in mind?" Luc asked.

Micra thought back. She was more of a book person than a music person. Nevertheless, she did have something in mind. But she wanted to make sure she chose the right song. It would play a part in the impression they gave to the Capitol. She thought about Jack and easily came to a conclusion.

"Yeah, I know something,"

She was finally led down to the bottom floor of the Remake Center. She entered alone, and finally saw Jack perched on the chariot third from the left. He was dressed in a similar manner as Micra. He looked a lot better than he usually did, but he was scowling. No matter how good of a job his stylist did, he would always look menacing and… dark. Or maybe he just had a difficult morning.

_It was probably both,_ decided Micra.

They sat in an awkward silence. Jack was brooding and cursing Bonni in his head. He sat and evaluated each person who came through the door. He already marked the two groups that were at the chariots before him as nonthreatening. At least for the most part. The boys were big, but Jack doubted their capability to think critically. The girl at the front of the line was easily considered to be an airhead by Jack. She was staring at her reflection in awe. It seemed the District Two boy was doing the same. Finally, Jack's eyes came to rest on the girl from District two. She smiled at him. He just stared back. Her eyes locked with his, friendly yet intimidating. Jack marked her as different from the rest.

So, Jack watched everyone come through the door. Mostly, Jack's eyes passed them lazily. Only four more people concerned Jack. First the girl from District Six, who was projecting hostility in every direction. Then both tributes from District Ten seemed dangerous. Finally, the girl from District Eleven was very intimidating.

Micra was also people watching. But it was more for entertainment than evaluation for the Games. She imagined what each tribute did before the Games. Normally, Micra loved watching people. But whenever she thought of the tributes lives, she could only imagine what they left behind.

They sat there for a while, watching each chariot be filled. Eventually, Luc and Bonni hurried towards them. Luc checked Micra's hair again, and made sure that her tiara was perfectly centered. Then they both touched the spots on Jack and Micra's backs. Both their outfits lit up. Pathways of green and blue light made their way across the fabric.

"You guys look amazing. Remember to smile. Win the crowd over. They will love you," Luc said. Micra nodded. She clenched her fists nervously and took a deep breath. All too soon was their call.

"And now, please welcome the tributes of District Three!" The horses started to move, and suddenly they were in the street. Music started up instantly.

_Catch me as I fall_

_Say you're here and it's all over now_

_Speaking to the atmosphere_

_No one's here and I fall into myself_

_This truth drives me_

_Into madness_

_I know I can stop the pain_

_If I will it all away_

… _If I will it all away_

_Don't turn away_

_(Don't give in to the pain)_

_Don't try to hide_

_(Though they're screaming your name)_

_Don't close your eyes_

_(God knows what lies behind them)_

_Don't turn out the light_

_(Never sleep never die)_

Jack looked solemnly out to the crowd. It provided an eerie effect, paired with the music. He had to admit that it was a very good song choice. Micra did the same. She stared at the crowd with intensity. The mobs of people fell silent, and the music rang out.

_I'm frightened by what I see_

_But somehow I know_

_That there's much more to come_

_Immobilized by my fear_

_And soon to be_

_Blinded by tears_

_I can stop the pain_

_If I will it all away_

… _If I will it all away._

The sun was low in the sky and Micra caught her image in one of the giant screens. She was striking. Her hair fell straight and looked like silk. The tiara sat perfectly on her head and glinted in the fading sunlight. Her dress was as breathtaking as ever. The lights pulsed along with the music. Her eyes looked challenging. She felt invincible.

_Fallen angels at my feet_

_Whispered voices at my ear_

_Death before my eyes_

_Lying next to me I fear_

_She beckons me_

_Shall I give in_

_Upon my end shall I begin_

_Forsaking all I've fallen for_

_I rise to meet the end_

The song was winding down. The chorus was repeating until finally the last lines rang out through the streets.

_Servatis a periculum_

_Servatis a maleficum_

As the last words faded, Micra hissed, "Bow!" to Jack. The both bowed slowly to the crowd as the music faded. Micra snapped her head up and smiled darkly at the crowd. There was silence for a few seconds. Then the crowd erupted into frenzied applause.

The announcer bellowed out the introduction for District Four, and new music started. Micra felt so alive. At that moment she knew that she made the correct song choice. She looked at Jack who remained stoic as usual, but she could tell that he approved. She was very surprised when he followed her instruction to bow. Micra was sure it made a good effect.

It took another twelve minutes or so before the other tributes were all presented. They pulled into the City Circle where President Snow gave his speech. Micra wasn't paying attention. She was still trying to slow down her heartbeat. She was barely aware when they rolled into the Training Center.

"You guys were amazing!" Luc ran at Micra and hugged her tightly. She laughed at his enthusiasm.

"I don't know where you pulled that act from, but it was amazing. To Hell with smiling!" Luc was beaming.

"Oh my God, you guys were like, SO cool," Bonni bounced up to them. Micra had to stop herself from laughing when she saw Jack's expression of pure hatred.

Wildfire then chose that moment to burst into the room. She looked around crazily before spotting Jack and Micra. She ran up to them and pulled them both into a hug. She was jumping up and down.

"AMAZING!" she cackled. Micra managed to squirm away. Jack was just standing there, waiting for her to calm down.

Then came Alden. He was walking slowly over to their little group. He was smiling. For the first time he didn't seem to want to take a nap.

"That was perfect. You guys made a very good impression. No doubt you'll have sponsors. Keep up the good work. We'll talk more upstairs," he said.

Everyone piled into the elevator and chatted happily all the way up. The rest of the night was spent with Alden lecturing them on what to do in the training areas. Micra was taking down notes:

_Try out new things_

_Don't attract unwanted attention_

_Don't pick fights_

_If challenged, back down._

_If asked for an alliance, evaluate:_

_Do they have any noteworthy skills?_

_Do they seem trustworthy?_

_Ask Alden before making a true alliance._

Finally, Alden finished. Micra was exhausted. She changed into pajamas and gave her dress back to Luc. She was very happy with the outcome of the day. She would make it back home. She just knew it.

After giving his suit back to the airhead that calls herself a stylist, Jack reread the nursery rhymes. He fell asleep in the middle of _All Around the Mulberry Bush_. For once in his life, Jack caught a glimpse of what a real childhood was like.

**That's the end for Chapter 2, Part 1. Hope you liked it! So… Districts Four, Five, and Six are next. So… Review!**

*** District Songs:**

**- 1 – Glamorous, by Fergie**

**- 2 – Boom Boom Pow, by the Black Eyed Peas**

**- 3 – Whisper, by Evanescence**

**** The last two lines of Whisper –**

_**Servatis a periculum**_

_**Servatis a maleficum**_

**Those were Latin verses that translate into:**

_**Save us from danger**_

_**Save us from evil**_

~ Leopardspotz17


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